By My Side
by Crimson Coin
Summary: The continuation of Endless Love, by popular demand. A Chris-Trish story based on the weekly happenings of RAW. What will happen next?
1. October 2, 2004

Do to popular demand ... here it is, the continuation of Unstoppable and Endless Love. Thanks to all my readers and thanks for all the reviews. Keep reviewing though, because the reviews let me know you're still reading.

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin 

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

October 4, 2004

Chris Jericho winced, cupping the back of his neck as he staggered down the arena corridor. Damn it. How the hell did he lose that match? Rhyno cheated. Rhyno got into the ring and gored him. Chris clenched his teeth, his other arm wrapping around his abdomen.

"Fucking Bastard," he swore, his eyes narrowing as he passed his locker room and continued down the corridor. He bypassed his second intended stop and continued further, taking the first left and he stepped into Rhyno and Tajiri's locker room.

No one was inside. Smiling sinisterly, Chris pressed against the wall behind the door, fully intending on getting that big tank by surprise. He held his breath as he waited, impatient in his desire to strike.

His eyes widened in sadistic pleasure as he saw the doorknob turn and the door opened. The moment he saw Rhyno, he pounced.

Rhyno startled in surprise, unable to defend himself as he was suddenly knocked to the ground. The wind expelled quickly from his lungs and he didn't have time to react before a hard punch landed in his abdomen.

Chris growled, pinning his opponent to the ground. "You son of a bitch."

Tajiri narrowed his eyes, watching as his partner was in serious trouble. Aiming carefully, he did the only thing he could do. Using all his momentum, he spun, kicking Chris right in the back of the head with the top of his foot.

Chris paused, his eyes glazing over at the impact and he fell off of Rhyno, his eyes cloudy and hazed.

Rhyno jumped up, quickly pinning his attacker to the ground as he stared into Jericho's hazy eyes. "What the fuck was that out there anyway? I knocked those jackasses off of you and put you back in the ring. Then you attack me. What the fuck is your problem?"

Chris didn't answer at first, his vision fading to a screen of white before he closed his eyes.

Rhyno was suddenly tossed of off him and a blonde knelt at Jericho's side.

Edge snarled, his eyes intensely focused on Rhyno and Tajiri. "Didn't get enough out there, huh? Had to finish the job?"

"He attacked me." Rhyno growled, furious.

"That's not what I saw." Edge said, his eyes dangerously threatening. "I saw that little shrimp nail my boy here in the back of the head. You whited him out and then what ... he's helpless as it is and you go to attack again. Real man you are."

"He started it." Rhyno continued. "And I was helping him out there. He attacked me for no reason."

"I think you paid him back with the gore in the ring." Edge defended, placing a hand on the fallen man's shoulder. "You don't need to do anything else."

"What the hell's going on?"

Edge glanced behind him at the voice.

Trish stood in the door, her eyes frightfully darting from one man to the next then finally settling on Chris's still body. Her eyes widened. "Oh my God, Chris!"

Rhyno furrowed his brow, confused as he watched Trish dive to Jericho's side, her hand reaching out to touch his face. Sharing a confused glance with his partner, they watched the interaction.

Trish cupped Jericho's face, stroking her thumbs along his cheek. "Chris? Sweetie? Come on." She coaxed, her voice desperate. "Open your eyes. Oh God, please be ok." She turned to look up at Edge. "What happened?"

Edge softened at the worry in the woman's eyes. "I don't know, Honey. All I know is that ..." he trailed off, his eyes focusing on the two men across the room.

Trish's gaze hardened as her eyes followed the other blonde's and a vicious sneer pulled at her lips. "What did you do?"

"He attacked me first." Rhyno rebutted, though his voice was weak.

Trish's eyes narrowed. "So you knocked him out!" When Chris groaned, Trish's eyes immediately softened and she returned her total attention to the man at her side. "Chris?"

Chris winced, his face contorted in momentary pain before he squirmed.

"Sweetie," Trish cooed, stroking his face then brushing her fingers through his hair. "Chrissy, please."

Jericho moaned, his eyes fluttering as everything slowly came into view. It was bright, too bright and it hurt his eyes.

"Chris?"

He smiled at the sound of her voice. "Hey. What did I do to deserve this lovely surprise?"

She couldn't stop a giggle from slipping past her lips and she reached out, gently brushing the stray blonde fibers away from his face. "Hi, there. Hey." She brushed the backs of her fingertips along his cheek, touching him in the gentlest way.

His smile brightened. "What a lovely sight for sore eyes."

A tiny flush rose to Trish's cheeks and she traced a hand down his neck, resting delicately on his chest. "From the looks of you, I can't imagine your eyes ... are the only things sore."

"No," he breathed, his hazed eyes locking on hers. "But it's soothing, none the less."

"Can you stand?" she asked.

"Sure."

Edge reached out, helping the blonde man stagger to his feet and he supported his weight as the smaller man leaned on him for support.

Jericho glanced up at the larger man, his head slightly wobbly before their eyes met. "Thanks, man." He said, softly. "You know ... for earlier and ... and now."

Edge nodded, his expression still serious as he kept a careful eye on the two men across the room.

"Chrissy?"

"Mmm," Jericho hummed, turning his attention to the opposite eyes, his eyes falling on her most lovely form. He smiled, his eyes unable to hide his pleasure at the sight. "Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?"

Trish blushed, averting her eyes from him a moment and then looked up again. "You really hit your head hard, didn't you?"

Chris shook his head. "No way. Deja vous."

Trish furrowed her brow, walking beside him as they left the locker room.

"Yeah," Chris answered with an easy smile. "Remember? Hitting my head usually helps me to see the light." He paused, staring straight into her eyes. "Knocks the sense into me."

Trish stopped, watching as Edge continued to help the other man down the arena corridor. And she remembered. She never forgot a moment between them, and she knew what he spoke of. She remembered, about a year ago. She remembered his admission ... she remembered his actions.

She closed her eyes, reaching up with a shaky hand as she touched her cheek, her lips. She remembered when he brushed his lips along her cheek, at the corner of her lips. She remembered when he called her beautiful for the first time almost a year ago.

She forced her eyes open. A tear dripped from the corner of her eye and Trish couldn't believe that now, a year later and after all the mess, he still thought her beautiful.


	2. October 11, 2004

Title: By My Side  
  
Author: Crimson Coin  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.  
  
Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter  
  
Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?  
  
Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

October 11, 2004  
  
Chris Jericho sighed, relaxing back into his couch as he tilted his head back, an icepack on both his neck and abs. He was already showered, clean, dressed and in so much pain. He slowly shook his head, rolling his eyes as he thought back over the evening.  
  
Why was it that every person on this planet seemed to want to see him injured? Every week, it seemed that a new person tried to take his head off.  
  
Chris chuckled. Ok. So maybe Dave Batista was the only man who wanted to decapitate him on every occasion. And Chris was not happy with that arrangement.  
  
On the contrary, he hated spending week after week sitting in his locker room, icepacks adorning every part of his body. Truthfully, he was quite sick of this situation.  
  
But nothing could be done about it. So Chris only sat there, content with the ice cold numbing of his pained muscles. His eyes fluttered as he did his best to relax through the pain.  
  
The door slammed.  
  
He jostled at the loud bang, wincing as the quick motion pulled at his taut muscles. He felt a rush of emotion flood his body as his eyes met hers.  
  
Trish Stratus stood in the door frame, her eye intense as she held open that door. "I can't believe this." She stepped into the room, letting the door swing closed as she immediately approached him and knelt at his feet, staring up into his icy eyes. "I can't believe what people are always doing to you."  
  
Jericho offered a weak smile, chuckling softly at her. "It comes with the territory. I have a belt. Everyone seems to want it."  
  
"I have a belt too," Trish said softly. "And you don't see everyone in creation coming after me like they go after you. Even the World Champion has never had it so bad. They always say that 'everyone guns for you' when you're the World Champ. But I don't see Hunter going through the same thing you are. I don't even remember Benoit being this hurt all the time."  
  
He offered a casual shrug, his eyes searching her beautiful face. He smiled. "I see you've become quite attached to wearing ripped shirts. You even wear them now when you're done for the night."  
  
She couldn't help but smile in return, noting his conversational direction change. No fear, she'd bring it up again later. "Yes. I love my shirts all tattered like this. I think it makes me look more badass."  
  
"Badass?" His brow rose with teasing. "Honey, they ain't thinking badass when they see you like that."  
  
Trish narrowed her eyes, playful as she gazed up at him. "And what exactly are they thinking?"  
  
"What do you think we're thinking?"  
  
"I don't know." She teased, crossing her arms over her chest as she stood, leaning slightly into her hip. "Fill me in."  
  
Chris blushed fiercely, ducking his head as he nervously licked his lips.  
  
She laughed, walking away and to his duffel bag. "Do you need another ice pack? You look ready to go. Come on, let's get out of here." She turned to face him.  
  
His eyes were narrowed, focused as he stared. A strange anger surged through him and he quickly stood, walking to her. "What's that?"  
  
"Huh?" She shuddered when he was suddenly in front of her and she ducked her head.  
  
"No no." He said quickly, reaching out and hooking a finger under her chin, forcing her to face him. "Let me see."  
  
She closed her eyes, yearning to pull away but just could not bring herself to shrug away from his touch.  
  
"Your jaw." He said, softly, tracing his fingers over the reddened mark. "That's from that kick isn't it. Stacy. Did you ice that? I saw that and I just ..."  
  
"I'm fine." Trish said, swiftly, pulling away from him, letting her hair fall to the side and blocking her face from his sight. She didn't even acknowledge him as she straightened her clothes. "I'm fine. It's nothing. I ... I'm gonna go now."  
  
Chris watched, shocked as she quickly ran from the room.

* * *

Jericho glanced back and forth down the streets of Manchester. He tried to catch Trish as soon as she left, but he was cornered by a group of fans. And he watched helpless as she disappeared through the crowds and down the darkened streets as he signed autographs and took some photos.  
  
But now, staring down the street and the flashing neon lights of the bars, he couldn't get her out of his mind. This was the fifth street he'd searched and over about twenty bars. But he would not give up. He had to find her. And if he was lucky, he'd find her as soon as possible.  
  
Chris walked into the first bar, his eyes searching quickly. A smile pulled at his lips. It was his lucky day. Someone was certainly smiling on him.  
  
Trish sat in the corner of the bar in a small booth, a circular table in front of her. She was alone, her head ducked and a tall tumbler gripped in her tiny hands.  
  
That smile still on his face, he walked to the bar. Grabbing his cold beer in one hand, he held it tightly as he could. Approaching her, he moved slowly so as not to frighten her. "This seat taken?"  
  
Trish jumped, her eyes wide as she looked up. "Chris?"  
  
His smile softened, sweetly as he slipped into the booth beside her, his eyes focused on her. "Do you know how many bars I've been in, looking for you?"  
  
"You didn't have to." She said, lowly, taking a sip of her ale.  
  
"I wanted to." He answered. "You ran off on me. So I had to find you. See how you were doing."  
  
Chris gripped his beer tighter, his hand cold and chilling from the low temperature. She watched him, curious to his actions. "Why are you really here?"  
  
"Maybe I'm worried about you." He said, cocking his head to look in her eyes. "Maybe I saw Stacy give you that hard kick in the jaw. And maybe I want to be worried about you for a change. Maybe I'm sick of being the center of attention and I want you ... to be the center of attention."  
  
Trish flushed.  
  
He offered a slight chuckle. "Oh come on, Sweetheart. You'd don't think I'd be concerned?"  
  
"No, that's not it." She responded, still keeping her eyes away from his.  
  
"I do care." He reaffirmed, reaching out with his free hand and he grabbed hers. She jumped at the touch but he didn't care, instead moved closer to her, pulling her hand close to him. "I care a lot." He whispered, letting her hand drop from his hold.  
  
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips and she giggled, realizing he did that only to get closer. Not that she minded, on the contrary, she liked when he was close.  
  
"So ..." he trailed off, finally releasing his beer and reaching out to cup her reddened jaw.  
  
Trish shivered. "Ooo, that's cold."  
  
Chris smiled, inching a little closer. "Well, you wouldn't give me a chance to put an icepack on it earlier. So I have to improvise."  
  
She shivered again, chilling under his touch and her eyes wouldn't leave his. "It's just ... so cold."  
  
His eyes softened, slightly worried. "Too cold?" He slowly pulled his hand away.  
  
"No," she said quickly, placing her hand on the back of his and placing his palm back on her cheek and jaw.  
  
His heart fluttered at her actions and his stomach swirled with the emotions that one action sparked. Everything finally felt right and he felt about to die.  
  
Her eyes glistened with unspoken emotion, the intensity. "It's not a bad thing."  
  
She was so lovely, her eyes sparkling with something he couldn't identify, but for the life of him he never wanted to lose it. He wanted to just keep it forever. Sighing contently, he stroked his thumb across her cheek then even slower towards her lips.  
  
He shuddered when her eyes fluttered closed and she gently pursed her lips as his thumb trailed down her lips. He stopped then, letting his thumb pad linger on her lips, those soft succulently moist lips. His lips parted, as his eyes darkened with pleasure. He had to resist every urge to brush off the small table and have his way with her right then and there.  
  
Trish's eyes slowly opened as she stopped the soft kiss, her lips relaxed and she watched with heated eyes as his thumb continued over her lips, pulling at that thick beautiful bottom lip and then releasing it before his pad rested on the center of her chin.  
  
"I'm sorry." He apologized in a breathy whisper then lowered his chilled hand from her cheek. But then he raised the other. "You should never touch a woman ... with cold hands." He pressed that hand to her cheek.  
  
Trish sighed, his hand so remarkably warm, his palm hot against her cheek and she couldn't help but nuzzle into the warmth. God, she forgot how warm this man was. How breathtakingly warm. His hands, his beautiful wondrous hands.  
  
Her own hands were cold, her body cold all of a sudden, especially compared to his sudden welcomed warmth. She just wanted to wrap herself in, let him envelop her in such heart stopping warmth. She'd been so cold for far too long.  
  
"Chris?"  
  
He brushed his hot thumb along her lip and then scooched closer still. "What is it?"  
  
She blinked once then twice, her eyes locked on his. "It's so cold."  
  
"Not anymore." He breathed without hesitation, wrapping his other arm around her small body and he pulled her against him, engulfing her in his arms.  
  
Trish sighed, snuggling into his arms and into his body. So warm, so deliciously warm. She wanted to wrap herself in his arms and never leave, just cuddle into his arms where nothing could hurt her, where she could forget everything except him.  
  
He felt abundant joy as she curled further into him, burying her face into his chest for a few moments and he shuddered as she inhaled. He did the same, letting her distinct scent fill his lungs, fill his soul. God, how he loved this woman. She was all he needed, all he wanted.  
  
She nearly died as his scent invaded her, enveloped her in something so pure and so comforting that she couldn't pinpoint what it was. But whatever it was, she never wanted it to leave.  
  
He knew the embrace was extending longer than necessary, but he didn't care. From the feel, from the way she snuggled into him, her arms slipping around his waist, she didn't want him to go anywhere. And he had absolutely no problem with that.

(One more chapter down. WHY CAN'T THEY JUST KISS ALREADY!)


	3. October 18, 2004

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin 

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

October 18, 2004

Chris Jericho looked up at the door of his locker room at the soft rasping. "Come in." he called, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. Wincing he raised his eyes to the door as it swung open.

Trish Stratus stood in that door, just like every other week, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "Is it my turn this week to worry about you?"

Chris chuckled, his hand dropping to his side. "You know something. I'm sick of worrying."

"Well, I'm not." She answered, walking further into the room. "Why are you always getting hurt? Can you cut it out?"

He laughed with a slight shake of the head. "I don't know, Hun. I really like getting my ass kicked. I think it's good for me. Keeps me on my toes."

"Well, I don't want you on your toes." She responded, approaching him then looking up into his face. "I want you in one piece. Is that so much to ask?" She gazed up at him for another moment then offered a sigh. "It's all that happens now. You get hurt every week."

"Hey now," He said, softly, reaching up to take her hand in his. "Don't you be worried about little old me. I'm fine. Now don't dwell."

Looking up on his face, Trish felt her stomach quiver, her knees wanting to shake and her heart race. He was so handsome, his eyes so gentle and glistening with every emotion. Though at first, she hated his hair cut. It was too short and she loved long hair, to just run her fingers through his long mane. That was the most vivid part of their first kiss. She could feel his mouth and his hands, yes. But no, it was the feel of his hair, raking her fingers through it as she guided and positioned his mouth just where she wanted it. And now, she couldn't help but love it. She loved his hair. It was still long enough and she wanted to reach out and run her fingers through it again. But that would be too bold.

Chris smiled, gently, knowing she was entranced looking at him. What was it that had her so transfixed? "Sweetie?"

Trish shook her head, her mind clearing. "Huh? Oh ... Sorry. Were you saying something?"

"Yeah," he said, leading the conversation exactly where he wanted. "I was asking you when you were leaving for Milwaukee."

"Oh," she furrowed her brow a moment. "I ... I wasn't sure. I ..." she giggled. "I actually didn't even make arrangements to get there. Not used to going anywhere but home after RAW. I guess I'll just rent a car tomorrow morning and go up."

"It's only a two hour drive or so." Jericho claimed, a hopeful glint in his eye. "And I do have my rented car. Why don't you come with me tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"Yeah," he said soothingly to her shocked expression. "Come on. I got all my stuff right here and I know you do too which means you didn't check into the hotel. Let's just go to Milwaukee."

"I ... I don't know."

"Oh come on," he coaxed. "What are yah scared of? Just let me take a quick shower first and I'll meet you in like twenty minutes. Ok?"

Trish smiled. "I'll meet you in the parking garage."

* * *

Chris warmed at the sight of her, leaning against his rented car, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked at the ground. How did she know which car was his? When did she get so beautiful? So much more beautiful.

Hoisting his bag a little higher on his shoulder, he walked closer. Damn, was she gorgeous. Just standing there in tight black slacks and a black buttoned down blouse, a pair of high boots on her lovely feet. Her hair was golden soft and hanging down, her face devoid of her usual heavy make-up, only the slightest bit she wore. He prayed he'd be able to control himself.

Trish released a sigh and then looked up, a smile pulling at her lips at the sight of him. "There you are. I was getting worried."

"All you do is worry." He jested, approaching the trunk and opening it. "Here give me your bag."

Trish lifted her bag from the floor, handing him the strap and as he placed both their bags in the trunk, she allowed herself the liberty to scan his body. A blue button down shirt, tucked neatly into his light beige khakis, a pair of black boots on his feet. His hair was dry and soft, just so soft. And it even looked like he just shaved.

"Ok, let's go."

But Trish didn't move aside. She held out her hand, cocking her head as she eyed him with warning.

Chris furrowed his brow, unsure of what she wanted. "What?"

"Keys." She explained, motioning to him with her outstretched hand. "Keys, now. You aren't driving."

"I can drive." He defended, pulling the keys protectively against his chest. "I'm fine, Sweetheart. I can drive."

She dropped her hand, disbelief in her eyes. "You were knocked out in the ring. You barely had the strength to tap. You stopped my heart. Now give me the keys."

"No," he resisted, almost childish in his tease with her and a smile spread onto his face. "I'm fine. So I drive."

"You sure?" she asked, getting a whiff of his cologne. God, he was delicious.

"Of course." He drawled. "Now come on. Let's get on the road before it's too late."

* * *

Chris sighed, tilting his head from side to side as he continued the drive down the highway. It had been about an hour and the conversation at first had been wonderful. Friendly, joking, just lovely. But now, she seemed to be slightly tired.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Trish cuddled against the door of the car, her head pillowed on the shoulder strap. She shifted her weight, shivering slightly.

She was so cute. He smiled and reached over to lock the doors then switching hands, adjusted the heat in the car, turning it up just a bit.

Trish glanced over her shoulder at the sound of the blowers.

Chris turned his head slightly, looking in her eyes and he nearly died. So ... so very beautiful. Her eyes were slightly glazed, her face a little dropped in seriousness. She must have been sleeping. "I'm sorry." He apologized softly. "You looked cold."

She smiled, twisting in the seat to face him and she curled back into her ball, resting her head on the back of the seat as she looked up at him. "I was ... a little." She reached out then, grabbing his right hand in hers and she pulled it off the wheel and into her lap, wrapping her tiny hands around it.

Chris smiled back at her, flicking her a look from the corner of his eyes before looking back out at the road. He closed his fist, holding her hands with his. "There's a rest stop just ahead, like half a mile. I'm gonna stop. I gotta pee and stretch my legs."

"Mmmm," she hummed, her eyes already closed. "Sounds good. I could use something to munch on anyway."

* * *

Trish wrapped her arms around herself, hugging tightly as she shivered, standing in front of the car at the rest stop. God it was so cold. Her eyes brightened as she saw him running out of the rest stop building, a paper bag and a large drink in his hand.

"Hey," he greeted, slowing his pace. "There was a pretzel place inside there. Hope you like salted soft pretzels. I got us three and this large Lemonade. Lemonade good?"

"Yeah." She answered, forcing a smile.

He furrowed his brow. "What's the matter?"

"I'm just freezing."

"Oh Honey," he said quickly, rushing to his side of the car. "You should have told me. I would have left the car on or given you the keys." He opened the driver's side door and placed paper bag on her seat and the drink in the cup holder. He turned on the car.

"Can we leave?" she called.

"Wait," he interrupted, making sure the doors were unlocked before closing his. "Here, I'm gonna get you real warm, real fast."

Her face flushed at those words, despite knowing his meaning was far from sexual. She ducked her head.

"Come here." He said, then gathered her into his arms. "Now watch this."

Trish hugged him back, snaking her hands around his waist and she followed his lead as he backed her up. She gasped when her butt came in contact with the hood of the car.

"No no." he calmed. "It's ok. Just kinda sit down."

She obeyed, sitting on the hood of the car. It was hot. She sighed at the warmth. And sitting in this position, her face was buried in his chest, her arms and hands clutching at his back. She wanted warmer however and traced her hands back and slipped them under his jacket then around his waist.

Chris chuckled. "See. The car's been driving non stop for like an hour. She's nice and hot."

Trish smiled at his words, noting his double meaning and she tightened her arms momentarily before easing back. She gazed up at him and his eyes locked on hers. She swallowed hard, his eyes full of such fire and intensity, she wanted to run. But no, that wasn't what she wanted to do.

Chris licked his lips as his eyes focused on hers. He could feel every jolt of electricity shooting through his body. He wanted her. He wanted her bad. And he wanted to do things to this woman that were far from decent and far from appropriate at such a place.

Trish couldn't look away. And she couldn't resist him anymore. She traced a chilled hand up the front of his body, reaching up to snake her fingers around the back of his neck. She tugged gently on him.

He didn't object when she pulled him down and he slowly obeyed, inching further to her. His breath caught high in his throat as she lay back on the hood of the car, still pulling him down to her. He was gentle, though, following her still but making sure not to crush her.

She wanted none of that. She wanted to feel him. Her one hand tightened on his neck, the other around his waist and she pulled him further into her, withholding a moan when his body pressed against hers, his face only inches away.

Chris licked his lips, his eyes unwavering and his body shaking at the feel. Her body ... the hot car and the vibrations of the engine. That combined with the knowledge that they were alone and she was right there, pulling on him, begging him for something.

Trish's body surged, subconsciously rocking into his for a mere moment as she kept their eyes locked. She said nothing, simply tickled his hairline with her fingers, the hand on his waist slipping under the shirt to touch the skin of his back.

Her actions, their proximity, Chris felt his skin crawl, goose pimples forcing the hair to stand on the back of his neck, forearms, back, thighs and calves. The heat from the engine infused him and he knew she couldn't be cold anymore. His eyes widened pleasurably when a little pink tongue peeked out of her lips and she licked them moist.

Trish gasped when his mouth suddenly covered hers, but her surprised only lasted a moment. Her fingers clenched at his hair as she released a sigh, caving into the car and letting him settle further into her. She moaned when his lips coaxed and teased hers to part and she was more than willing to give him the deep kiss for which he sought.

Chris moaned in return when she slipped that hot tongue into his mouth and he shivered with delight when she touched her tongue to his. Soft, gentle and tender was her kiss, filled with yearning and desire but still laced with the purest emotion he felt tears.

Trish gripped his back even tighter as her other hand tickled forward, cupping his cheek preciously as the kiss extended and deepened. She shuddered as his hand traced down her side, up then down again before resting on her thigh and he gripped her leg.

He hummed into her mouth, tangling his tongue more intensely with hers as he lifted her leg gently, placing her thigh on his hip so he could press even closer to her and he moaned with satisfaction as she tightened that leg, hooking her heel into the back of his butt and pulling him closer still. God, anymore of this and he didn't think he'd be able to stop.

His cologne filled her lungs mixed with that comforting scent she always loved about him and Trish had to remind herself where they were and the position they were in. But she didn't want this kiss to end. It was so surreal and perfect and wonderful. He was delicious and the vibration of the car underneath her was making this far more difficult than ever before.

Chris had forgotten how sweet she tasted, how wondrously her body felt pressed to his in such a passionate embrace. He never wanted this to stop. He wanted this forever. He felt her fisting his hair again, gently pulling him back as she slowed the kiss. Finally as her lips wrapped around his once and then one more time, she eased him back completely. Her heart softened at the smile on his face.

Trish didn't push him away yet. On the contrary, she tightened that leg around his waist, her foot giving him a teasing spur and she smiled as his eyes fluttered with his groan. It was such a deep sexy groan too. It raced her heart.

"Tease," Chris chuckled with a shake of the head and he placed his hands on her hips, jumping back from her and standing her on her own feet. "Next time you go and spur me like that, be warned I'm taking no prisoners."

Trish giggled, shoving him playfully by the chest as she bounced over to the passenger side of the car. "Come on. Let's go. I'm hungry."

He laughed, walking to the driver's seat and slipping in. Starting the car, he pulled from the rest stop and merged onto the highway. "So are you gonna feed me my pretzel or am I gonna get all greasy fingered dropping it in my lap as I'm trying to drive."

"Well if you're gonna be a big baby about it." Trish jested with a smile, reaching into the bag to rip off a piece of a pretzel. She raised the big cup of lemonade to her lips, sipping at it delicately through the straw.

Jericho let out a groan as his eyes met her and her actions. "Sweetheart, you are gonna have to warn me before you do that. Or at least turn the other way."

"Whatever for?" she teased, batting her eyes as she took a nice long suck of the lemonade, then placed the cup back in the holder.

Chris only shook his head, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Women."

"What about us?" Trish asked, offering him another piece of pretzel.

"Nothing." He answered tilting his head to take the pretzel in his mouth, his eyes still on the road.

But she pulled the pretzel away. "What do you mean, nothing? Bull ... nothing."

"Come on, Babe." He pleaded. "I'm hungry." He stuck his lower lip out in a pout. "You gonna leave me without?"

Trish waved the piece of pretzel at him. "Yes."

"Please," he begged, fluttering his eyes at her a moment.

Trish's smile grew as she shifted her weight. "Give me a kiss first." And she leaned over to place a chaste peck on his mouth before offering him the pretzel.

"Mmmm," he hummed, licking his lips as he chewed on the small piece of pretzel. "Trish-tzels. The best thing ever."

She giggled, settling back into her seat as she bit off a piece of the twisted dough. She shivered, her smile broadening when he reached over, taking one of her hands with his and pulling it into his lap, placing her palm on his thigh and covered her hand with his, entwining their fingers.

She sighed, her eyes locking on him as he focused on the road and controlling the car. So handsome, so wonderful ... so perfect. Where did they ever go wrong? The smile fell from her face as she remembered the bet, Bischoff, the tape ... everything swirled into her mind and she couldn't stop their mind numbing effect. She couldn't help but feel pain.

She shuddered when he caressed his hand along hers, his fingers petting along hers and then traveling the slightest bit over her arm before entwining yet again. He lifted her hand then, bringing it to his mouth and he placed two warm kisses on her palm. "Don't think, Honey." He said as if reading her mind. "Don't think about anything like that now. I don't want you worried or upset. Let's just have a nice drive."

Trish couldn't help but smile and she pulled her hand from his to reach back into that bag, breaking off another piece of pretzel for him. She offered it to him wordlessly, and he took his time, taking it from her fingers, making sure his lips touched her fingertips as he closed his mouth.

She pulled her hand back then, loving the sensation he gave and even slightly angered with herself for being so weak to his charm, to his kiss and his words, to everything this man was. Was she still in love? Truly in love?

Trish shook her head, disbelieving of the betraying thought her mind had fabricated. Though she couldn't deny that her body was still hot, her heart soaring and her lips still burning from the fire of that kiss. God, had she missed this man's kiss. And she wanted more. In truth, she wanted him to just pull over the car that moment.

And she knew exactly what she would do. She'd grab him by the collar and drag him into the backseat to have her sweet way with him. But again, Trish shook her head. She couldn't let herself get all hot and bothered over that notion.

She was relieved when he turned on the radio. It would be a welcome distraction to her suddenly spinning thoughts. What had happened that evening?

(Now remember ... the more reviews I get ... the more I give you what you want? What do you want? Tell me ... review me.)

(There will be no Taboo Tuesday Chapter)


	4. October 25, 2004

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin 

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

October 25, 2004

Chris Jericho smiled, his grin stretching from ear to ear as he stared down at the body of Triple H, the cocky bastard lying limp in the center of the ring. He felt a hand rest heavily on his shoulder and he turned his head slightly to see who it was.

"Thanks, Man." Randy said, slightly out of breath but smiling nonetheless.

"Not a problem." Chris answered, his eyes taking in the surrounding scene and the cheers of the crowd. He chuckled. "It's about time somebody did something."

Benoit nodded, slipping out of the ring and waiting for the other men. When they stood beside him, the older man turned to walk up the ramp. "We have to be on our toes from now on. We may have just gotten ourselves into something we can't handle."

"We can handle it." Randy said, a smile still on his face as he turned at the top of the ramp, outstretching his arms to taunt to the crowd and to the stirring Hunter in the ring. "We can handle anything."

Maven smiled, an equally pleased look on his face. "Oh yeah. We are so flying high."

Benoit glanced to his side, his eyes meeting that of his former tag team partner, his long time friend. Jericho offered an equally worried look. What grave had they just dug?

Jericho turned his eyes back to the ring, watching as Hunter staggered to his feet, a sinister glare, and angry fire burning strong. He knew that the other men had already walked behind the curtain and he had the sinking suspicion that Hunter had a new target.

Sighing, he walked behind the curtain and he smiled as he was accosted by a pair of delicate female hands.

"Chris, I can't believe you did what you just did," Trish said softly. "God, why did you do that? They're going to be after you now."

"I know," Chris answered, grabbing her hand and leading her down the corridor. "Come on. We've got to get out of here and fast."

"What are you trying to do? Are you trying to get yourself hurt? I mean, the way you brushed past Hunter when he was with that girl I ... it was like you were looking for a fight."

"I was." He said, nonchalantly, grabbing his bag from his locker room then taking her hand again as he rushed down the hall. "Where are your bags?"

"I put them in the car already," she responded. "But don't change the subject. Why were you so pissed? What's the matter with you?"

"Look can we talk about this later." He snapped.

Trish froze, pulling her hand from his.

Chris stopped, releasing a heavy breath as he turned to face her. "I'm sorry," he said, slowly, heartbroken at the look on her face. "I'm sorry, Honey. I didn't mean to snap. We just have to leave before they come after us."

She swallowed hard, offering a quick nod.

He sighed, stepping closer to her and tilting her chin up, his eyes meeting hers. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset. We'll talk back in the hotel, ok? Now Benoit was running to the garage to get our car. We all have to run and you're coming with me, ok? I don't want them anywhere near you."

"Ok," she answered quietly, a small smile pulling at her lips as she grabbed his hand.

"Wait a fucking minute!"

Jericho's eyes fired as he recognized the voice and he quickly dropped his bag, pushing the woman behind him, standing protectively in front of her. His eyes narrowed as he slouched slightly, preparing himself to defend and attack.

Dave Batista snarled, stalking to the two. "You're gonna get it, Jericho."

"No!" Trish cried, throwing herself in front of Jericho, her arms outstretched to stop him.

"Trish, no." Jericho argued, trying to push her out of the way, but Trish wouldn't move. And he didn't want to hurt her.

Dave stopped, standing only a few feet away as he eyed down the woman. "Trish, move."

"No," she said, resistant. "No, I can't let you hurt him."

"Real man standing behind your woman." Dave snarled.

When Chris would shove past her, she outstretched her arms. "Chris, don't." Her eyes saddened as she looked up at Dave, the big man meeting her eyes. "Dave, please." She paused, praying her eyes would say everything she couldn't. "Please."

Dave looked right through her, anger and rage prominent in his eyes. But then he sighed, closing his eyes a moment. And when they opened, a different look reflected. His eyes were soft, forgiving. "For you, Trish." He sighed, glancing behind him. "Run ... quick."

"Thank you, Dave." Trish said with sincerest conviction and she threw herself into the big man's arms, hugging him tightly for a moment. When she pulled back, her smile was bright and brilliant and there was even a tear glistening in her eye. "I knew you weren't a bad man. I knew it."

Dave's eyes narrowed on Jericho. "I didn't do this for you. And this is no contract of what will happen next week." His eyes met Trish's and they immediately softened, a gentle smile pulling at his lips and he reached out, touching the tiny woman's cheek with his large hand. "Get out of here, Sweetheart. They're not far behind me."

"Thank you," she said again, grabbing Jericho's hand and pulling him quickly down the hall. She smiled when she heard Dave call.

"They're not in the parking garage. Try the locker room!"

She raced down the hall, her speed a quick trot as she burst through the door to the garage.

"Wait," he panted. "Slow down, Baby."

She stopped looking back over her shoulder and a small smile pulled at her lips as he bent over, his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. She combed her fingers through his hair. "What's this? No endurance?"

"Jesus, girl." He panted still, trying desperately to control his breath. "You're quick."

"Hmm," she cocked her head, a curious flirtatious smile on her face. "No man has ever told me _that_ before."

Chris glanced up at her from his position and he laughed. "God, woman. You'll be the death of me."

She leaned down then, her smile brightly brilliant.

He sighed, his eyes softened and hazed as he looked on her. God, she was beautiful. That smile, those lips, those eyes. Oh, how he missed that smile.

She placed a soft kiss on the top of his head then grabbed his hand, standing tall to scan the parking lot. "Where's the car? Where's everyone?"

"I don't know," he answered, standing straight as he glanced around the lot. "Uhm ... over there." He pointed. "There's Benoit."

He led her to the car, opening the back door as he spotted Benoit at the wheel and Randy in the passenger seat. "Get in," he said, glancing over his shoulder. "Quick, Baby. I can see them. Benoit get outta here. I'll hold them off."

Trish reached out of the car, grabbing his arm as she tugged him into the backseat. She moved over as he fell into the seat, quickly shutting the door and Benoit sped off. She turned her head, looking out the back window.

Hunter stood in the center of the lot, screaming obscenities and wielding a sledge hammer. A sinister dangerous glare spread across his face as he swung that hammer, smashing the head into the hood of one of the other parked cars.

Trish's eyes widened as she looked to the man next to her. "You were going to stay behind? He'd have killed you."

Chris turned his head, his eyes sad as they focused on her. "And it would have kept him away from you."

"Chris," she breathed, reaching out to cup his face in her hands. "Chris, you listen to me. I never ... _NEVER_ want you to risk yourself for me. Do you understand that?"

He nodded. "Yes." Then he licked his lips. "But that's not going to stop me."

Trish sighed. "Chris."

"Listen to me," he said, cupping her cheek in his hand a moment, letting his thumb brush along her lips then jaw. "What Benoit and I did tonight made us targets, ok? And I want you to listen carefully to me when I tell you that you have to stay away from me."

A look of complete hurt and rejection flickered in her eyes.

"Honey, you have to. I don't know what would happen if Hunter knew that he could get to us ... all of us ... through you."

"He's right, Sweetie." Randy said from the front of the car, addressing her over his shoulder. "We need you to stay clear from now on. We won tonight and it feels damn good. But Hunter is an angry man. And I wouldn't put it past him to go after you."

Trish swallowed hard, feeling tears well up in her eyes. "But ..."

"No 'buts', Sweetheart." Jericho said, softly, placing a finger on her lips to silence her. "No 'buts'. You will not be involved in this. I'd die before I let that happen."

"But, Chris." She argued and when he would silence her again she shook her head. "No, let me talk. I won't let you do this alone. I have a grudge against Hunter too. I have reasons for hating Evolution. Dave might not hate me but he hates you and I can't deal with that. And I can do something, anything. Even if it's just taking care of you, healing your wounds. Just holding you in my arms."

"Trishy,"

"No," she insisted. "All of you are acting like I can't handle myself and I can. I can handle myself and just let Hunter try to come after me. He'll have another thing coming."

Chris smiled, admiring the resilience she so fearlessly exposed. He moved closer to her, pulling the smaller woman into his arms and embracing her tightly, burying his face in her hair as he hugged her tightly. "Have I ever told you how adorable you are when you're stubborn?"

"I'm serious, Chris." She said softly into his ear. "I don't know what I'd do if they hurt you and I wasn't there." She pressed a soft kiss on the shell of his ear. "God, what would I do? At least if I'm by your side, I can take care of you. And Randy."

He sighed, tightening his arms as he nuzzled her neck, inhaling the sweet scent from her hair. "Mmmm, I want you to take care of me." A smile cracked at his lips. "Real good care of me."

She giggled, tightening her arms around his neck. "Will you let me help you? Let me be with you?"

He withheld a groan at the words though he knew she meant nothing sexual by them. "I can't say 'No' to you." He admitted. "You know that."

"So that means you'll let me help?"

"Of course." He answered, his voice on his breath. "But you have to promise me that you'll look out for yourself first."

She cupped his head, easing him back to look on his face, his lovely lovely face. "You know I can't promise that."

"I don't want you hurt."

"I'm a grown woman." Trish said, stroking her fingers across his brow. "And I want to help. And I'm gonna do every damn thing I can."

Chris sighed, pulling her into his arms again, hugging her tightly as he nuzzled her hair.

"I'm sorry you lost the belt, Chris." She whispered in his ear. "I still think you should have won. And that it should still be around your waist."

"I loved having the belt." He said. "But I'd much rather have you here than that belt around my waist."

She smiled at his honest confession. "Well you're still champ in my book."

"Hun?"

"Mmmm, what?"

He snuggled into her, pulling her closer into his embrace, uncaring of the two others that sat in the front seats. "Honey, I know how much you hated what you had to wear on Tuesday, but for what it's worth, I thought you looked beautiful."

"I looked like a whore," she said with a snort. "How could you say that?"

"Because you are beautiful." He said seriously, his voice low and deep. "You are the most beautiful thing in the world." He placed a hand on her thigh, rubbing down her leg then up again. "And you have the most gorgeous legs. And those thigh highs just absolutely made me wild."

Trish shivered.

Chris only smiled. "I know I'm probably overstepping my bounds to say this. But you ... wow, you were so gorgeous. But ... heh ... I'm serious when I say that you're beautiful. And you have such gorgeous eyes. And I could tell by looking into your pretty little eyes on Tuesday that you were absolutely horrified about dressing like that but I still think you looked beautiful. And no other woman is as beautiful as you."

"Oh, Chris," she sighed. "No one has ever said such beautiful things to me."

Randy chuckled. "So are you gonna kiss him after that?"

Benoit laughed. "Yeah, man. After that I don't know what woman wouldn't. Go ahead. We won't mind." He turned on the radio, fairly loud. "We won't hear you!"

Chris chuckled, nuzzling against her throat as he spoke so only she could hear. "You really are beautiful. And I think you looked amazing in that outfit. Though ... heh ... I thought you looked more amazing in that lingerie you wore as Lita's self proclaimed Maid of Honor. That took my breath away."

She tightened her arms around his neck.

"It did," he said, honestly, nuzzling his nose in her hair as he pressed his lips to her ear a few times. "God, you were the most gorgeous creature. And all those men ... hooting and hollering ... I just wanted to rip them all limb from limb." He shook his head slowly, kissing her ear again, this time slower and more sensual. "Mmm, but still, you were gorgeous. And I hated everyone of those men for acting that way. They don't know what they were screaming for. They don't lo ... know ... you."

Trish pressed closer to him, embracing him as tightly as she could. She knew what he almost said. She knew what he almost confessed. And it only made her love him more.

Chris couldn't keep the smile off his face though he was slightly nervous from almost slipping up. "So yeah, sorry if I made you feel weird but ..."

"Chris," she hummed. "Just so you know ..."

He pulled back from her, his head tilted so he could look in her eyes. "What?"

Her smile was brilliant and beaming, her eyes dancing as she cupped his face in her hands. "I still have that outfit."

His smile tweaked, seductively, as his eyes flickered.

"And who knows," she said, tickling a finger down his face to his chin. "Maybe ... you'll get a private showing one of these days."

"I'm holding you to that."

"I know," Trish answered, pulling him the final distance closer and kissing him softly.

(So remember, I like reviews. The more reviews, the more Chris/Trish I give you.)


	5. November 1, 2004

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin 

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

November 1, 2004

Trish Stratus turned her back on the ring and on her one time friend. A fire in her eye she walked behind the curtain, turning her attention to the woman at her side. "Thanks for coming out there."

"Not a problem." Gail Kim answered. "Anyway, I know you coulda handled yourself, if she only fought fair."

Trish nodded as the other woman offered a smile and then walked off. Releasing a sigh, the little blonde walked down those stairs and then looked down the arena corridor. Her eyes fell on his form and he was walking with Maven and Randy Orton. "Chris," she breathed more to herself than anyone else and her eyes softened at the sight.

A smile stretched across Chris's face and he quickened his pace, slowing only the moment he was in front of her. "Hey, hun." He greeted, his eyes searching her face as if rememorizing her every feature. "It's been a whole week since I've seen you. Been avoiding me, huh?"

"You got it, Buddy." She answered with a little smirk. "I thought you told me to. Last week, remember."

"Well, yeah." He responded. "But I never thought you actually would."

She chuckled, placing a hand on his chest and she turned her head, noting that Maven was staring at her. She cocked a brow. "What?"

Maven startled at her snap and the glare in her eyes was enough to make him shiver. "I ... well, Chris ... can ... can I talk to you?"

"What is it?" Chris asked, his one hand resting gently on Trish's hip and he looked towards his tag team partner for the evening. "Why you got that look on your face?"

Trish's eyes narrowed a moment, almost threatening before she looked back up at Chris, her gaze immediately softening. "Babe?"

"Yeah," Jericho answered, turning his attention to the woman in front of him and he cocked his head, eyeing her curiously.

"Be careful, ok?" she said, quietly, ignoring the staring from Chris's tag team partner. "You know what Dave is like and I don't want you too banged up, ok?"

"Ok."

"Promise me," she said, eyeing him with an all out knowing. "Promise me you'll try to be ok."

Chris smiled his quirky grin and raised to fingers. "Scouts honor. Now go wait in my locker room. If Hunter is here, I don't want him to find you."

Trish nodded. "Ok," and she leaned up, placing a soft peck on his mouth before walking down the hall, hitching her belt up a little higher on her shoulder.

Chris's grin brightened as he watched the woman walk further down the corridor, his eyes dilated with pleasure at the sight of her soft bouncing form.

"Uh ..." Maven averted his eyes from Trish to the man at his side. "When did you two get back together?"

"We're not together."

Maven's brow rose. "Coulda fooled me." He stood in front of Chris. "You sure you know what you're doing, man. I mean, did you see what she did to Lita out there."

Jericho's smile broadened. "That's my girl."

Maven could do nothing but watch dumbfounded as his partner walked to the curtain, readying himself for a match.

* * *

Jericho couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he walked behind the curtain, the match finally complete.

"Great job out there, Chris."

"You too, Randy," Jericho answered, reaching out to pat the younger man on the shoulder. "Remember, one week at a time."

Randy nodded. "Yeah. But what about Edge?"

"You let Benoit take care of Edge." Chris responded. "And if he needs me, I'm there for him. Edge and I have unfinished business anyway. You just worry about Evolution. I've got your back."

"Thanks, man." Randy said with a grin and then walked off.

Chris continued down the corridor to his locker room. Once seeing the door, a sly smile spread across his face and he walked slower, tip-toeing the rest of the way to the door. He wanted to scare her.

Pushing open the door, he poked his head inside. His brow furrowed.

Trish hadn't noticed him, her head bowed as her eyes focused on her right hand. She winced, wrapping the ice pack more tightly around her hand and she held it gently in place. Removing the ice pack, she looked at her hand, her head cocked to inspect it more carefully. Wincing, she rotated her wrist and then reapplied the ice.

"Honey?"

Trish jumped, dropping the ice as she placed her hands in her lap, her left covering her right as she looked to the door. A smile plastered itself across her face. "Chris? You ... you're done already?"

"Yeah," he answered, walking further into the room and letting the door swing closed behind him. He watched her curiously. "You weren't watching?"

"Uhm ... no." Trish stammered, her eyes wavering from his. "I ... I didn't turn on the TV. I ... I was ... uhm ..."

He approached her, kneeling at her feet as he looked up into her face. He didn't want to hear her tripping through a lie. His eyes abandoned hers as he looked down into her lap and at her hand. He reached out.

"Don't," Trish snapped, pulling her hands against her chest.

His eyes locked heatedly on hers and he reached out again, taking her right hand in his. Convinced she wouldn't fight, he looked down at her hand. Stroking his fingers over the cold hand, he cradled it preciously in his. "What is it?"

"It's nothing." She responded quickly. "Nothing."

"Don't lie to me, Trish." He snarled. "Just don't fucking lie to me. We're not going back to that."

Trish yanked her hand from his, her eyes blazing with emotion. "I'm not lying. It's really nothing."

Glancing up at her, he withheld his anger. "Are you just telling me that so I don't worry or is that what you're telling yourself cuz you're scared of something?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"Don't push me away, Trish." He nearly growled, reaching out again to take her right hand with his and he looked down at it. "I watched you on the mic out there today and your hand looked swollen. So are you gonna talk to me or am I going to have to drag you to the trainers and beat the shit outta them till they tell me."

Trish sighed, her head bowed though she didn't respond.

"Tell me, Baby." He pleaded, his voice begging her and laced with worry. "Don't leave me in the dark cuz I'm gonna worry about this forever and it gets worse with each second. Please, just tell me."

She sniffled, bowing her head even further. "It's ... it's the same hand."

"I noticed," Chris coaxed, stroking her hand slowly. "This is the one you broke this summer. Baby, tell me, please. I'm dying over here."

Trish reached up with her free hand, wiping at her nose and then sniffing she straightened, her eyes on his and she wasn't afraid to show the tears.

"Oh Honey," he cooed, reaching up with one hand to touch her cheek, gathering the moisture from her tears before clasping her hand again. "Tell me."

"I ... I don't know what's wrong with it?" She forced out. "I ..." she swallowed hard. "I can't feel my hand. It ... it's cold and numb and sometimes ... it ... it hurts."

"Maybe it didn't heal right." Chris responded, turning his attention to that hand, caressing it with his hands. "Did you go back to the doctor?"

Trish shook her head.

"Why not, Sweetie?" He ducked a bit to meet her eyes. "We should take you to the doctor now. This isn't right, your hand being numb and like that."

But Trish viciously shook her head. "No, Chris. Don't. I ... I'm scared. I ... I can't go to the doctor's. I ... I have the belt and I have so much I'm doing and Lita and you and I ..."

"Ok, shh," he hushed, moving onto the couch to sit next to her. "Come here." He said and she didn't hesitate to crawl into his lap and cuddle into his chest. She snuggled further into him when his arm draped around her and she held her wounded hand against her chest.

"I'm so scared, Chris." She whispered. "Something's wrong."

"I know, Honey." He said softly, hugging her tighter. "And it'll be ok. You don't have to go to the doctor until you're ready. But promise me that the moment you are, you'll tell me and we'll go, ok?"

Trish nodded, burying her face into his chest. "I know what this is. That if it healed wrong and they ... they'll have to rebreak my hand. I ... I don't know if I can handle that."

"You can." He said, strongly. "You can because you're the bravest person I know and you're strong and you're a fighter and everything will be fine." He tightened his hug for a moment and then quickly pushed her back. "Oh God, Baby, I'm sorry. I'm all sweaty from my match."

"No, it's ok, Chris." She said, sitting back on his lap as she wiped the tears from her eyes and then cracked a smile for him. "I didn't mind. I ..." her brow furrowed and she reached out, placing a hand on his reddened chest. "Oh my God, what ... what happened?"

"It's nothing." He calmed. "Just Flair's chops are kinda harsh. But I had it coming. I was choppin him too."

"I didn't even ask," she said, worried as her eyes scanned his body. "Are you ok? How was the match? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," he answered with a chuckle. "Don't worry so much. It was no different than any other match. I took a beating but I'm fine."

Trish sighed, her eyes scanning his chest and then she resituated herself in his lap, her legs to either side so she could scooch closer to him. Her hands pressed into his pecks and then she trailed them down his abs to his sides, rubbing at the area just above his tights.

"Hey," he chuckled. "Don't touch my pudge."

She managed a smile for him, gripping his little love handles and then leaning down, pressing her cheek to his chest with her hug. "I like your pudge."

Jericho shook his head. "No matter what I do, I can't get rid of it. My six pack can have a six pack and I'll still have pudgy sides."

Trish laughed, snuggling into him, nuzzling his chest before pushing up to look in his eyes. "I didn't know six packs can have six packs."

Jericho nodded. "Damn right they can. Like Renee Dupree. Remember when his abs went from his waist up to his chin. Or like Dave ... or Orton before he lost some of that muscle mass."

"Yeah," Trish agreed. "I'm glad that Randy lost that muscle. I think he looked so hard. He looks much better now." When Jericho's face fell, she reached up, cupping his cheek with her hand. "Nothing against you, Baby."

Chris ducked his head, his eyes focusing on his lap.

"Sweetie," Trish cooed, reaching out to touch his face with both hands and she tilted his gaze up. "Sweetie, I was only saying. That's all."

"Why did you and Randy break up?"

"I don't know." Trish answered truthfully. "To be honest. He just said that we shouldn't see each other. That he knew that he could never have my heart and that I was meant for someone else and that he wanted me to be happy. And he knew he wasn't that man."

"It was mutual?"

She nodded. "We just didn't work on that level and he's been wonderful to me and still wants me to be his friend. I do love him dearly but ... but not like that. "Here, come here." She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

He hugged her back, letting his grip loosen as she sat back on his thighs. Smiling for her, he rested his hands on her hips. "So, you checked out your auction recently?"

Trish scowled. "Stupid thing. I can't believe Bischoff made me sign that shirt. Nidia threw orange soda on it. And it was torn. I don't see how that's gonna get any money."

His smile quirked at one side of his mouth. "It pulled in $898 and change."

Trish's eyes widened. "It what?"

Chris nodded. "Yup. And it just goes to prove how crazy your stalker fans are."

"Hey," she defended. "My fans aren't stalkers." She smiled. "They're just more willing to pour out hundreds of dollars for me."

"Are you suggesting that my Jericho-holics wouldn't pour that much out for me?" he quipped back. "Because I'll have you know, there are many women out there still drooling over this sexy beast."

"Mmm," Trish hummed, seductively, running her hands down his chest then around his sides. "They better not be."

"Oh, they are." Jericho shot back. "And they would spend hundreds on me too. I mean like one of my wet shirts."

"But you're always shirtless."

"Fine then ..." He bit his lip, thinking quickly. "That towel that I wore two years ago when the Dudley's stole my clothes. You remember that ... and that damn Spike Dudley took my towel and left me and Christian ... Christian there naked."

She noticed his stammer over his one time best friend's name, but opted to move the conversation forward. "Yes, I do. I still don't think that towel would get as much as my shirt."

"I was naked under that towel, I'll have you know."

Trish bowed her head. "You wanted to hurt me. A few weeks later when I rejected you and you wanted to slam me through that table. I remember being so afraid of you in that match because you had this look in your eye and ..." she sighed.

"I couldn't."

She looked up at him, her head cocked. "What?"

"I couldn't do it," he admitted with a raised brow, his eyes downcast. "I was so angry that you said no. Not that I blamed you but I am a sexy beast and I ... I didn't completely understand. But that Vitamin Wee thing really hurt and I was so ... so mad." He released a heavy breath. "And I ... I know I got you with that lariat. And I was going to put you in a powerbomb but I ... I couldn't and I hesitated and Booker got me from behind. But God, I ... I don't think I really coulda done it."

"Do you mean that?"

"Oh yeah," he sighed with a nod, his eyes meeting hers and he gently ran his hands around her side to her back, caressing her softly. "God, I can be such an idiot."

Trish bowed her head. "Well ... I'm not all that innocent. Calling you Vitamin Wee like that."

Chris offered a small smile. "Yeah, that didn't do too much for me. Especially considering I'm so small anyway. Hence you know, the anger. I mean if I knew I was big then I coulda just dismissed it but ..."

"You're not small."

He laughed. "Yeah, you say that now. You've seen me, Sweetheart." Then his brow furrowed, his eyes saddening. "Was Randy bigger than me?"

"Chris," she sighed.

"No, answer me." He requested, his eyes locking on hers. "Was he?"

"Chris, that doesn't matter."

"He was, wasn't he." Jericho continued. "He is bigger than me. Damn it, everyone is bigger than me. I can't cu ..."

Trish placed her fingers over his mouth, silencing him. "Shut up, Chris. You want the truth. You want the dead honest truth. Yes, Randy is bigger than you. Yes, I've been with other men who are bigger than you. Yes, you're not as big as a lot of men in the federation. But ..." she raised her brow, brushing the hair from his face at his hurt look. "But you're not small. You're not, got that Jericho."

Jericho couldn't respond, shocked by her honest words.

"You're not small," she said, seriously, her voice dropped in tone. "You're not. You're average, Chris. That's it. You're just average. And I'm ok with that. Cuz that doesn't matter to me. If I wanted huge, I'd be riding Edge every other night."

His eyes fired at the mention of that man.

"But I don't." Trish calmed, brushing her fingers along his face and through his hair. "I don't care about size. I care about the man. I care about you, not the size of your ..." she trailed off, not wanting to say the word and she offered him a small smile. "Come here." She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him close.

Chris hugged her back, still saddened by her words. "So what you're saying is that I'm still the smallest guy in the locker room."

She sighed, her shoulders sagging. "I give up." Closing her eyes a moment, she regained her patience and looked at the man again. Cupping his face in both her hands, she leaned forward, her nose almost touching his as she gazed deeply into his eyes. "I wouldn't change a damn thing about you, Jericho."

He gave her a shaky nod, unable to look away.

"So is there anything else I need to convince you of?"

Jericho swallowed hard. "I ..." he licked his lips then offered a simple smile. "I just want to tell you that I saw that photo you did for American Curves. And that is the luckiest man alive."

Trish laughed, her head tilting back slightly as her chest shook with that laughter. And she playfully swatted at his chest

Chris couldn't help but laugh with her and he grabbed her wrist as she slapped him, holding her hand preciously in his. "Trish?"

"Mmm."

"Humor me," Chris began. "But you're ok with me being ..."

"Don't you dare say 'small', Chris Jericho," Trish threatened. "You say 'small' and I'll hurt you. I swear it."

Jericho sucked his lips into his mouth then batted shy lashes at her. "Length-ily challenged."

"Jericho," she smacked him on the chest. "I'll ... freaking ... hurt you." She gave him a few more slaps and then sighed, dropping her hands. She shook her head. "What do I have to do to convince you? I'm gonna be twenty-nine in a month, Chris. I don't care about a man's dick size anymore. I want him to be able to do something for me physically AND emotionally and it's true about caring about character and a sense of humor. Ok? I don't care about _that_ anymore. As long as you know what you're doing, that's what matters. Jeez."

Smiling, Chris squeezed her waist with his hands. "Thanks."

"Good," she responded, pushing out of his lap and standing. "Now get showered. I've got energy and I'm hungry. So you're taking me out for dinner."

A single brow rose and he laughed, pushing to his feet. "Well, I guess I can't really argue with that."

"That's right." She responded, crossing her arms over her chest. "So get showered. I don't want you stinking out the restaurant."

"Ok," he answered, walking to her and taking that right hand in his. Holding it gently, he smiled. "Give me fifteen minutes?"

"You got it."

Chris felt his heart melt at her smile and he squeezed her hand, carefully of course because he didn't want to hurt her.

When he would pull away, she didn't let him. Instead, she tightened her hold on his hand and turned him back to her. He flashed her a confused look and she only returned his look with a seductive look of her own.

"What's wrong?" he asked, legitimately concerned.

"Nothing," she responded with a sexy twinge and she reached out, snaking her hand around the back of his neck. "Come here, first, you."

Chris's smile beamed as the woman pulled him closer, her lips parting and she captured his mouth. He shivered as her lips held his, her body surging against his and he groaned as she pressed her hot tongue against his lips.

Trish sighed as he parted his lips, allowing her entry into his mouth. Her tongue touched and tangled with his and Chris tilted his head a little more to get closer access. His hands ran around her back, sliding up her shirt then down in a slow caress.

A little moan rumbled in her throat as their tongues twined and her knees locked. She'd never felt such passion, such sweetness in a kiss. How could her body fill with such electricity, such fire with only a kiss?

Chris wrapped his tongue around hers, slowing the kiss as he pulled back from her, his eyes closed as he breathed heavily onto her luscious mouth. Licking his lips, he did his best to control his breath. "Wow." He sighed.

"Yeah," she agreed, just as breathy and she trailed her hand down his chest to his abs, gripping the top of his tights for a moment. "I ... I should go get cleaned up."

Chris nodded, releasing her and letting his eyes flutter open as she left the room. Once gone, he sighed. "Damn." And he licked his lips, her wonderful taste still lingering on his lips.

(I like reviews. And don't worry, things are gonna get mixed up next chapter. So review me ... or else you know what I'm gonna do. MUAHAHAHAHA!)


	6. November 8, 2004

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin 

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

November 8, 2004

Chris Jericho smirked, watching up the ramp as Hunter and his goons stepped behind the curtain. He glanced around the ring, noting how his team members celebrated and played up to the audience. Though he wasn't in the mood for such things, he followed suit and taunted to the crowd. Flexing his muscles a few times, he rolled out of the ring, slapping the hands of some of the fans before starting to head up the ramp.

Benoit followed closely behind him as Maven and Randy stayed in the ring a few more moments. Jogging, Benoit caught up to his friend. "What do you think?"

"I don't know," Jericho answered, turning at the top of the ramp to smile at the crowd. "But we are gonna get an ass kicking on Sunday. That, I do know."

Benoit nodded, raising his hands in the air as the crowd cheered and then he followed his friend behind the curtain. "Do you think we can stand a chance?"

Jericho shrugged, his pace slowing as he walked cautiously down the hall. He was in no condition to be attacked again. "I really don't know. Our team is young. And those two guys out there, they have spunk and they have passion."

"Yeah," Benoit agreed, keeping pace with his friend, his eyes searching around them. "But with Edge, Hunter, and Batista ... we are gonna be in trouble."

Jericho nodded. "Yeah, this is really gonna hurt. Do you think they can hold their own?"

"I don't know," Benoit answered with a slow shake of the head. "Randy can. And he's too stubborn to quit easily. I'm worried about Maven."

"Me too," Jericho responded. "He hasn't had a lot of experience. Especially with opponents of this level."

"That doesn't matter," Benoit said. "Even if he does get pinned early. The three of us can still do it."

Jericho chuckled. "You have a lot of confidence."

"Confidence is all I got left," Benoit said then eyed his friend curiously. "You gonna be ok?"

"Yeah," Jericho answered with a nod, his arm protectively wrapping around his waist. "I'm really fucking sore. And my back is killing me."

"You should just head back to your room. Lay down and ice it. We need you in top form come Sunday."

"I will be," Jericho said, stopping at his locker room. "Don't you worry about me. You bring the Benoit I know, and I'll bring the Jericho you know."

A wide toothless grin spread across Benoit's face. "Great. So it's the greatest technical wrestler in the world today and the biggest assclown in the world today."

"Hey, Jerky," Jericho said, raising a single finger. "If I recall correctly, I beat you a number of times so you're second best ... oh no, didn't Lita slap you around a bit, so that means you're third."

Benoit scowled. "Your lies hurt me."

Jericho laughed. "You know it. Oh, can you do me a favor?"

"Name it."

"Make sure Lita is ok. She didn't seem right earlier after Snitsky punted that baby doll and I'm worried about the girl."

"Can do." Benoit responded then turned from his friend to walk down the hall.

Jericho turned to his locker room door, releasing a sigh as he readied himself to walk inside. He was prepared for another ass kicking.

He opened the door.

His brow furrowed as he noticed the empty room. "Trish?"

There was no response. He walked to his bag. His belongings were scattered on the floor and over the bench. He didn't remember doing that.

His eyes widened. "Keys." He knelt down, looking hurriedly through his clothes and the bag. The car keys were gone.

He swore silently to himself as he quickly gathered his things and shoved them into the bag. He didn't have time to fold or situate. He stuffed everything inside and then zipped it hurriedly.

Shouldering his bag, he raced from the locker room and charged down the hallway. Hopefully he didn't miss her. Hopefully, she hadn't left yet.

Banging through the door to the parking garage, he scanned quickly. And spotted her. She wasn't too far ahead. Almost to the car, that was parked next to a giant cement pillar. "Trish!"

She didn't slow her rhythm, her eyes intensely focused on the car and she approached the trunk, opening it and tossing her bag inside. Slamming the trunk shut, she gasped. How did he get so close, so fast.

"Trish," he sighed, outstretching his hands to calm her. "Trish, Honey. Easy."

Angered, infuriated at his tone, she glared up at him, ice prominent in her eyes. "You son of a bitch," she snarled, her body shaking from the controlled rage. "You son of a bitch," she recoiled her hand.

Chris's head whipped to the side with her harsh slap and he quickly returned his eyes to hers, fuming with passion and anger. He reached out, grabbing her arms and spinning her, slamming her against that cement pillar.

Her eyes widened at his violent outburst and she scowled angrily up at him.

Chris ducked down, his lips crashing to hers. His kiss harsh and hard, his mouth pressed powerfully to hers. He didn't kiss her deep, just held her mouth with his. Breathless, his mouth snapped off of hers and he looked down on her face with heated eyes.

She gasped at first, regaining her breath and then her eyes flew to his, deep brown and blazing with anger. She recoiled again.

Jericho's head whipped with her slap again. And for the second time, he immediately let his icy eyes lock on hers before ducking down, kissing her again. This kiss more intense, more passionate then the last. He pushed his tongue against her lips, forcing inside her sweet mouth. He dared her to bite him. But she didn't. She didn't kiss him back, but she didn't push him away.

He broke the kiss again, staring down at her, panting onto her sweet face. She swallowed hard, her eyes opening to look up at him again and still her eyes blazed with passionate anger. She recoiled.

But Chris was fast. He caught her wrist before she could slap him and he roughly pinned both her wrists over her head. Trish swallowed hard again, the slightest bit of fear entering his eyes at the look of him. His body so close, the tip of his nose to hers as he stared into her eyes.

She choked when he suddenly kissed her again, his mouth even more demanding. His tongue wrapped and tangled, urging her for a response and against her will, she began to kiss him back. He growled at the realization of her response and he gripped her wrists a bit more tightly when she started to squirm. He had no intention of releasing her yet.

He pressed even closer to her, making sure he pinned her against the pillar and he tilted his head a little further, trying desperately to kiss her deeper and more passionately. His body surged at the victorious notion when her body went limp against him. He squeezed her wrists, moving her hands and wrapping her arms around his neck and head. His hands abandoned her wrists then so he could band his arms around her tiny body, his hands gripping her back and shoulders to pull her right into him.

Trish tightened her own arms, returning his kiss with equal passion, her fingers tangling in his hair then tickling to the side of his face.

Finally, breathless and far too excited, Chris broke the kiss, pulling back and then pressed his forehead to hers.

She didn't say anything, her breath coming in short pants as she held him close, her hands refusing to leave him.

Chris tightened his arms, pulling her and embracing her closer to him, trying to engulf her into his body.

"You're such a fucking bastard," she sneered, her usually warm honey brown eyes darkened with the still fuming anger within her. "Better sluts and Gardens. You ... you are a fucking lying bastard. I said nothing against you. I didn't go out there and attack you. I attacked that bitch, Lita."

Jericho tilted his face, pressing his lips to hers in a soft tender kiss, affectionate and pure in this kiss.

Trish shook her head when he pulled back again and she sighed on his mouth, noting the way he shivered at the feel of her breath. "And after calling me a slut, you kiss me like that. What signals are you trying to give me? What do you want from me? I don't ..."

Again, he cut her off, his mouth covering hers as he pressed her flush against that pillar, his body not leaving a single inch between them. His hands traced up to her face, raking through and playing with her hair before cupping his face. As the kiss managed to deepen, his hands traced down her body then back around her, clutching at the muscles of her back.

Trish caved against him, unable to fight this man and she moaned as his hot wet tongue touched and tangled with hers.

Chris growled as she kissed him back, her tongue so soft and velvety, almost shy in her kiss and he couldn't help but want her more. His stomach hurt with the emotions she stirred within him and he wanted nothing more than to hold her and kiss her just like this.

Again, the kiss ended and she was beginning to get frustrated. Did he want to kiss or not? He'd break the embrace and then stop. What was he trying to prove?

Before she could speak, Chris's lips silenced hers once and then one last time. "Listen to me," he mumbled against her lips. "Lita is still my friend. I'm worried about her because Snitsky won't leave her alone. And I really took a beating for defending her."

"My God," Trish's eyes widened and she brought her hands to his abdomen. "I forgot. Are you ..."

Chris hissed, his eyes fluttering in pain. "Oh God. Ok that hurts, Baby."

"Oh my God, Chris," she breathed, her earlier anger forgotten as her worry for him took over. "Are you ok? Come on, we have to get out of here."

"Wait," he said, quickly, reaching out to cup her pretty face in his hands. "Look, I didn't mean anything I said to you out there. I saw ... it was bad. You came out there and the way you looked at me and the way we looked at each other. God, I just wanted to have my way with you right there."

She chuckled at that recollection. "You were so cute, Chris. And you had this look in your eye and I just played it up."

"That you did," he answered with a smile. "And you just had this sexy glint in your eyes, I had to introduce Lita as soon as possible."

"But better sluts and gardens?"

Chris chuckled, pressing his lips to hers once and then again. "It came to my mind and was kinda funny. And you had a great come back, Baby. 'Whatever'. Fantastic."

She glared at him, her lips frowned in a pout. "I wasn't expecting you to say something so mean. Maybe next time, I won't be so generous. I have a mean streak too, Chris. You know that."

"I know," he answered, holding her a bit more tightly. "But remember, I don't want you hurt. I don't want Hunter to think there's anything between us because then he'll go after you to get to me. And I couldn't live with myself. God, if something happened to you, I don't know what I'd do. Plus, we've been around each other so much. And people have been questioning us being so close lately."

A smile pulled at her lips. "We're kinda close now."

He chuckled. "That's cuz as long as I have you pinned and restrained like this, you can't hurt me. And I am so fragile. Snitsky really kicked my ass."

The smile fell from her face and she reached up to touch his cheek with her hand, her fingers tickling along his chin and jaw. "I wish there was something I could do."

"Well ... you know what today is?"

Trish sucked her lower lip into her mouth, chewing on it slightly. "It's the Monday before Survivor Series."

He shook his head.

"It's one month and six days until Christmas?"

He shook his head, a frown on his face and his eyes displayed the most pitiful hurt.

"Aw, Sweetie," she cooed, cupping his face. "I know. Tomorrow is your birthday. I remembered, Sweets."

The biggest brightest smile spread across his face and he leaned down, placing a harsh needy kiss on her mouth.

She whimpered when he pulled back and she only shook her head up at him. "You're very affectionate today. Can't stop kissing me."

"Why would I want to?"

When he would lean down again, she reached up, pushing him back by the chest. "Wait, I want to show you my gift."

He released her as she slipped under his arms and to the trunk of the car. She popped the trunk and then opened her bag, gathering something into her arms and holding it against her chest. He furrowed his brow. That looked familiar. Red and white ... it looked like a ... like a hockey jersey.

Trish ducked her head. "I ... I got this for you a long time ago. And I ... I wanted to just ... just burn it on so many occasions but ... but I couldn't. And ... and sometimes when I was alone and I missed you ... I ... I'd wear it to sleep and even though you never touched it or anything it ... it made me feel better. I ..."

She trailed off when he approached her, reaching out to touch her hands and the jersey she clamped tightly to. Her eyes glanced up, meeting his and she watched worried as he took the jersey from her.

He shook it out, holding it up to look at it and she swallowed hard, licking her lips in nervousness. "You don't have to ..."

"Shhh," he hushed, silencing her and without hesitation, he put the hockey jersey on, wiggling slightly and then looking down at his chest as he wore it. He smiled. "It matches my tights. The red and red."

Trish smiled for him.

"It's wonderful," he breathed, leaning in for a quick kiss then another and one more that lasted longer, the last kiss he held as long as he could. "I love ..." he swallowed hard. "I love it. Thank you, Trish."

"You're welcome," she mumbled, her head bowed in embarrassment.

He stepped closer, tilting her chin up so she could look in his eyes. "If you ever want to wear this to sleep in, just take it." Then he smiled, cocking his head. "What do you say we had back to my room, order some room service and ..." he flushed. "Well, and you give me one hell of a birthday massage."

She flashed him a beautiful smile but there was still worry in her eyes. "I ... I'm not really ready for ..."

"I mean totally innocent." He said before she could finish. "Well, as innocent as massages could get. But just my back and maybe my chest. Just a nice massage before we turn in for the night. And then your company for supper. I don't wanna move fast at all. I am perfectly content just kissing you for the next dozen years."

"You mean that?"

He gave a slow nod, his smile so warm and tender. "Yeah. We ... technically, we haven't even officially gotten back together. And when that happens then we just take our time and do what feels right."

Trish sniffed, moving closer to him as she gazed up on his beautiful face. "Do you want to be back together? Because frankly, I don't know how pleased I'll be you calling me a slut if we're supposed to be together."

"I never mean what I say out there for that stuff," he clarified, his hands resting gently on her hips. "It's all for the show and you have to admit, it was funny. Plus, it was the only thing I could say so I didn't lay a long wet passionate kiss on your mouth. God just thinking about that kinda kiss makes me want to do it." He shook his head clear. "Anyway, I think it may have been awkward to be ravaging you in front of millions of people like that. Especially for our budding relationship."

Trish smiled, softly. "I'm willing to 'officially' try, as you say. But we can go slow, we have to. Because I ... that's the way we should have done it from the start. And we didn't and look where it got us."

He nodded, agreeing with her.

Her smile brightened, hopeful and beautiful. "Let's get back to your room then. I'm hungry and I ... I want to get started on your massage."

"Ooo," he coaxed, playfully then shivered. "I am looking forward to this."

"Happy Birthday, Baby," she hushed, leaning up to kiss him again.

When she pulled back, he licked his lips. "Mmm, that's got to be the twentieth kiss in the last ten minutes."

"And you're complaining?"

"Never," he sighed then squeezed her hand.

Trish smiled. "And I don't think it was that many. But ... we can catch up if you want."

"Oh, I do. But back at the hotel. That way I can kiss you the way you should be kissed. Come on, let's get out of here." He couldn't wait to get back to his room. He couldn't wait to feel her massage, he couldn't wait to kiss her continuously ... he couldn't wait to spend time with the woman he loved. The smile fell from his face as she slipped into the driver's seat and he put his bag in the trunk. Now, if only he could muster the courage to tell her how he felt.

(Another chapter down and aren't they getting sweet. Don't you love them. LOVE THEM! LOVE CHRIS/TRISH! Let's see what happens next week. And I want reviews because without reviews, I don't write.)


	7. Survivor Series November 14, 2004

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin 

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

November 14, 2004

Survivor Series

Chris Jericho raced down the arena corridor, desperately trying to reach the curtain. He wanted to run out there. The moment he saw Lita with that chair and then the blood. His tears flowed at the sight of blood and he had to get there as soon as possible. As he approached, he could see the referees and other large men escorting a still fighting Lita the opposite way down the arena.

He resisted the urge to charge down that hallway after the fiery redhead. No, he couldn't do that. Trish. His Trish. He had to see her. He had to find her and help her. He could hear the crowd booing.

What tore at his heart was her tears. He could see true tears in her eyes and the blood and he could feel his heart ache at the sight. He didn't even know what to do. He just wanted to help her.

His eyes widened as she stumbled behind the curtain, shrugging away the referees who constantly tried to help her. "Don't touch me," she sneered, brushing their hands away and she wobbled slightly when they let her go.

"Baby," Chris cooed, racing to her.

Trish looked up at the sound of his voice and immediately, the tears burst from her eyes, her face scrunched in pain as her shoulders collapsed and sagged.

"Trish," he sighed, his eyes sorrowed as they locked on her and he approached her, stopping just in front of her. When her head bowed, he reached out and gently touched her cheek with his hand. "Trishy, Baby."

Her head ducked again as the tears fell from her eyes and she whimpered when Chris took her in his arms and just held her.

"Shhh," he hushed, brushing his hand over her hair as he rocked her slightly.

"Jericho," one of the trainers interrupted. "We really need to take her to get checked out. Come on, let's go, Trish."

She shook her head, burying her face further into his chest.

The trainer reached out, his hand touching her arm.

Trish flinched at the touch and Jericho's eyes fumed, his booming voice ringing out and filled with venom. "You'd better get your hands off of her or I swear to God, you'll regret it."

The trainer quickly retracted his hand, his eyes wide as he looked to the referees at his side. He opened his mouth to speak again however Chris's eyes narrowed and the trainer thought better of it and snapped his mouth closed.

"Sweetie," he cooed softly, his hands brushing through her hair, petting her as he whispered sweet hushes in her ear. He rocked her gently, his hands beautifully tender in his touch.

Trish shivered and shuddered at his wordless murmurs and she slid her arms around his waist, holding him tighter. She pressed her forehead into his chest, her tiny body still shaking with sobs.

Chris whispered and purred, leaning down and tilting his head so his lips pressed to her ear. Continuing to breathe gently into her ear, he kissed her there once then again. Cupping her face with his hands, he eased her back to look in her eyes a moment. He breathed a heavy sigh before leaning forward to trail a series of kisses along her brow.

Trish scrunched up her nose, shaking her head as she pressed her hands into his pecks, pushing him back slightly. "Don't kiss me. I'm ... I'm a bloody ..."

"Shhh," he silenced her, pressing a finger to her lips. "Don't you remember a year ago. And I'm a bloody mess and you still kissed my brow ... and my cut." He smiled softly. "I remember that. I remember the feel of your ... your soft soft lips." His eyes fluttered at the remembrance and his gaze softened as his eyes held hers.

A small smile managed to pull at the corner of Trish's lips. "I ... I remember that. I ... I wanted so badly to kiss you on the mouth but I ... I was so nervous."

Chris nodded as he grabbed her hand, walking slowly down the arena corridor with her. "Yeah. And do you know what this month is, Baby?"

Trish shook her head, sucking her lower lip into her mouth coyly, flirtatiously as she averted her eyes from him.

"Oh come on, Baby," he coaxed smoothly. "Think. It's November and what happened a year ago."

Trish glanced up at him and she couldn't help but giggle at the mischievous glint in his eyes. "I believe around this time last year, I was shoving my tongue down your throat in an alley somewhere."

Chris threw his head back with his hearty laugh as they continued down the corridor. He didn't respond to her but instead lead her to his locker room.

She paused, watching as he walked to his duffel bag and packed his clothes. "Honey? What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you to the hospital."

Her eyes widened. "What?" Then she raced further into the room, standing beside him. Her eyes watched as he continued to fold his clothes and a warmth filled her as she noticed the red and white hockey jersey on the bottom of his bag.

"I said, I'm taking you to the hospital."

"But you can't." she quickly injected. "You have a match tonight and ..."

"Fuck the match," he spat with a quick shake of the head. "I don't care about that. I have to get you to a doctor." He turned to her then, his eyes softening as he reached out and touched the side of his finger under her nose. When he pulled it back, there was the slightest bit of blood. "Sweetie, I want to make sure you're ok."

Trish grabbed his hand then, looking up into his face with worried almost paranoid eyes. "Baby, you can't. You can't leave now. You'd leave and leave Randy and Benoit all alone to face Evolution and Ed ... Edg .... Edge ... and ... and Snitsky?"

Chris nodded without hesitation.

"No, you can't do that." She argued. "You can't leave Randy and Benoit alone."

"But ..."

"No buts," she interrupted, reaching up to press her fingers to his lips, silencing him. "No buts. You are not going to leave them alone. You can't. Benoit's your friend and look at everything Randy has done for you and for me. You can't leave them. You have to fight. And I'll go to the hospital on my own and you can come there after the match."

"I don't want to leave you."

"I'll be fine," she said, convincingly as she stroked her hand along his arm. "I'll be just fine. I'm a big girl and it hurts like hell, but I'll be ok."

Reluctant, Chris didn't want to listen. "I'm so worried about you. I can't let you go alone. I don't care about the outcome of the match. I ... I just want to make sure you're ok."

"I won't be alone." She answered. "There ... there is someone I can ask. I'll get to the hospital and I won't be alone. Just do your match and then come, ok?"

Sighing, he nodded. "Fine. But the moment I'm done ... I'm coming for you."

A small smile pulled at her lips. "Ok, but promise me you will do everything you can to win. Fight with everything you can. You have to win, Baby. You have to."

"I will," he pledged then leaned forward, kissing her softly on the forehead. "I'll win for you, Baby."

* * *

Chris Jericho staggered down the arena corridor after his match, waving away the trainers and any friends who tried to stop him. "Leave me alone," he demanded of them, never slowing his pace. "I have to get to the hospital."

He winced, wrapping an arm around his waist as his other hand cupped the back of his head. His head spun and he could barely see straight. "Chris?"

The blonde man turned at his name, his eyes focusing on his dear friend. Benoit approached him, stepping close then placing a comforting hand on the man's shoulders. "Look, I know you want to get to Trish."

"Then why are you stopping me."

Benoit tightened his grip on the man's shoulder, his voice deepening in intensity. "Because first of all, you are in no condition to drive and secondly, you're not even in your street clothes."

"You think I care about this shit?"

"Look," Benoit sighed. "Just go to the showers now, quickly rinse off, change and I'll take you, Ok?"

Jericho contemplated that decision for a moment and then gave a quick nod. "Meet me in the parking garage in ten minutes."

* * *

Trish Stratus winced as the doctor cupped her face in his large hands, tilting her head one way then the next as he examined her nose. "Ok, Everything appears to be set and in place. Let me just tape it up."

She breathed a slow sigh as he placed a tiny strip across the bridge of her nose. "Thank you," she sighed, her eyes half lidded. She was tired.

The doctor smiled gently, standing straight as he stared down at the woman. "Yes, I would suspect you'd be tired. You did lose some blood and this is traumatic. But at least nothing is too serious."

"I broke my nose." Trish responded with a chuckle. "You don't think that's serious?"

"That's not what I mean." The doctor replied, lightly. "I'm merely saying that your situation could be far worse. The break is only slight and you should be fine in no time. However, though you are an athlete and I've been told that you may still have to compete ..." He handed her a clear plastic mask. "Wear this anytime you'd be doing something physical in the ring. Just to make sure that it's not rebroken."

She took the plastic mask with hesitation. "Oh God, look at this thing."

The doctor chuckled. "If you don't want your nose broken again, that thing is a must."

"Trish!"

Both jumped at the loud call and then the slamming that echoed outside her door. She could hear scuffling and then voices and then his distinct voice screaming again.

"I will damn well make a scene so you better just show me where she is before a start swinging punches."

After a few moments, the door to her room opened and Jericho stumbled inside. "Trish," he sighed as his eyes met hers and he ran quickly to her side, a wince on his face and his arm immediately wrapped around his waist. "Honey?"

"It's nothing," he said quickly, brushing off her concern. "I'm fine. I ... I was so distracted they ... they got the upper hand on me far too often for my liking. I ... I'm ok though."

"Are you sure?" she asked, worried as her hands reached out to touch his face. "Is the doctor still here?" Her eyes abandoned his as she scanned her room for the doctor that was just taking care of her.

Chris was relieved when he noted that doctor was gone. "I'm fine, Baby." He answered softly. "Please don't worry about me. I'm a big boy and a tough man, hard as nails. I am fine. But how did you get here? You didn't take the car we rented and I was so worried. Did you take a cab? Did the ambulance bring you?"

Trish shook her head, her eyes averting from his as she stared at his brow, his cheeks, his mouth. "No, I ... someone brought me. They just stepped out to go get me some coffee. They ..." she chuckled. "The sight of the doctor resetting my nose made him a little squeamish."

"Him?"

Trish gave a slow nod, a tenderness overwhelming her at the slight jealousy marauding through his eyes. "Yeah, him. He should be back in a few minutes."

Chris's eyes narrowed as he eyed the woman cautiously. "Who is he?"

She smiled softly. "Just a friend I made a long time ago. And he was more than willing to help me out."

And as if on cue, that man walked through the door. "Trish? I have your ..." the man trailed off, his gaze falling on that of the young woman and then the man next to her.

Jericho's eyes widened. "You?"

Trish smiled, reaching out to the other man. "Thank you. I could really use that coffee right about now."

John Cena didn't remove his eyes from the other man as he walked slowly, handing out the steaming paper cup to the woman. "Just like you like it. Double cream and a pinch of sugar."

"Thanks so much, Sweetie," Trish cooed, grabbing the hot cup and holding it in her hands. "I have been craving coffee all day."

John offered her a gentle smile, averting his eyes from the other man as he knelt at her feet, his one hand resting on her knees. "You sure you're gonna be ok, now?"

"Positive," she answered, placing her free hand on his and she gave him a tight squeeze. "I've got Chris now. I'm ok. Thanks so much for bringing me here. It means a lot to me."

"Anytime," he answered with a winning smile. "I should get back to Dawn before she rips my head off."

When he stood, Trish cocked her head. "Why would she rip your head off?"

John chuckled, grabbing his jacket from the chair in the corner of the room. "Because I forgot to tell her where I was going and she's probably worried sick about me."

"Well, call her," Trish responded, slapping him playfully on the arm. "I'd be worried sick too."

"I will," John replied then waved as he stepped out the door. "Bye"

Her smile managed to brighten when the door closed and she turned her eyes to Chris. The smile fell from her face at the look of him.

A tiny frown pulled at the corner of his lips, a stinging hurt glistening in his eyes as he watched her, his gaze unwavering.

"What is it?"

"I didn't know you knew John Cena."

Trish nodded. "I became quick friends with him when I was traveling back and forth between Smackdown and RAW. When I was champion and I had to be on both, remember?"

"Yeah."

"I got to know him then." Trish continued. "And he was really sweet. I remember ..." a smile pulled at her lips. "I remember when he first approached me, he was like a little kid seeing Santa Clause at the mall. He just had this look of awe in his eyes and said he remembered watching my debut and watching me wrestle when he was training. He's a really great guy."

"Really."

"Yes," she answered. "He was so nice. And I remember him calling me last summer and talking to me about this girl he had a thing for and just cooing about her. I thought it was so sweet he had a thing for Dawn. I'm glad to see they're still together."

"So John ..."

"Has been nothing but a friend," she said, smiling up at him. "The doctor said I can go home. And I just want to get out of here."

Chris managed a smile.

Trish's smile brightened and she reached out, grabbing his hand and pulling it into her lap. "Yeah, I wanna get outta here. And I ... I just want to get back and slip into a nice hot bath."

A flash of mischief flickered in his eyes and he leaned slightly closer, his head cocking as he blinked slowly. "A nice hot bath?"

Trish smile grew lazy as she reached up, cupping his cheek in her hand. "Yeah. And you're gonna snuggle into bed with a nice book."

"Sounds wonderful," he responded.

Trish pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his neck as she hugged him. "Even looking like this ... you ... you make me feel so beautiful."

"Looking like this?" he asked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She sniffled. "You know with my broken nose."

"Aww, Sweetie," he cooed. "Broken nose nothing. You're still gorgeous."

Trish giggled. "You make me feel so much better. Like nothing is wrong."

Chris chuckled, rubbing his hands along her back and then he eased her back. "Come on, Sweetie," he leaned down, placing a soft gentle kiss on her forehead. "Let's get out of here."

(Well I think it's about time we stirred things up a bit. Heh, look forward to that. Review me, tell me what you want.)


	8. November 22, 2004

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin 

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

November 22, 2004

Chris Jericho fumed as he stalked down the arena corridor. He turned two corners and then his eyes narrowed. Vince McMahon. There was that arrogant son of a bitch asshole. Jericho clenched his teeth, storming down the corridor. Oh no, who did he think he was walking away. Mr. McMahon should not be walking away from anyone this moment.

As he approached the locker room, his attention turned to the door. He could deal with Mr. McMahon later. There was a certain someone that owed him an explanation.

* * *

Trish Stratus jumped as the door to her locker room slammed closed. She turned towards the door, her eyes wide with her gasp.

"What the _FUCK_ was that?" Jericho snarled.

Trish jostled at his tone. She'd never seen him this mad before. Quickly resituating her towel, she hugged it closer to her body. "Chris."

"You're damn right, Chris." He responded. "Now what the hell was that? What you ... you go and ..."

"No," she interrupted, shaking her head at him. "No, I didn't do anything with him. I ... I didn't touch him and I ..."

"Were you naked under that towel?"

She bowed her head, sighing her response. "Yes."

Jericho let out a loud roar, his head throwing back as he stalked against the wall and slammed his fist into the concrete.

"Chris?"

"NO!" He yelled back, stalking up to her, his eyes ablaze with angered passion. "No, none of this Chris shit. How could you? What ... what the hell ... what ... what the _FUCK_!"

"Chris, please," she begged. "Let me explain."

Jericho took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering momentarily as he willed his passion to lessen. After a moment, he opened his eyes again and stared into her honey brown orbs. "Tell me."

"I didn't do anything," she quickly stated, her eyes pleading with him to understand. "I didn't. I ... I had to. Just listen." She swallowed hard when he waited. "Vince approached me and I had to. You ... you know about that commercial that aired during Monday Night Football last week. The one that got everyone up in arms and there was a big scandal and Vince thought of a great publicity stunt."

Chris still didn't respond.

"I'm so sorry, Chris," Trish continued, reaching out to gently touch his arm. "I'm sorry. I know I didn't tell you but when he came to me, he gave me an ultimatum. You see ..." she licked her lips, her voice lowering as she slightly ducked her head. "Vince ... Vince got another offer from Playboy and he wants another diva. He wanted me and it ... it was either the Playboy spread or this and I ..."

Jericho cocked his head, leaning closer to her. "Are you telling me that you either had to do this and make the entire world believe you were going to fuck Vince McMahon or else you had to strip for Playboy?"

Trish kept her head low though she offered a saddened nod. Then she swiftly lifted her head, staring him in the face. "I'm so sorry, Chris. If ... if I knew how much this would upset you I ... I wouldn't have done it. But I ... I just didn't want to pose for Playboy. I ... I don't want to and ..."

"Shhh," he hushed, reaching out for her and he carefully touched the plastic mask still on her face. She flinched and he hushed her again, this time lifting it up and removing it from her face. "Look at me."

Trish looked up, right into his eyes and she couldn't withhold the little tear peaking out the corner of her eye. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"Shhh," he hushed again and he reached out to caress his fingers along her cheek. "I'm sorry I got mad. I just ... I just ..." he growled. "God Damn that son of a bitch!"

"Chris, not so loud."

"I locked the door," he responded with a little shake of the head. "I just can't believe that he would make you do that."

"You ... you believe me?"

Chris cocked his head, his eyes piercing hers. "Of course I do. Why? Are you lying to me?"

"No," Trish answered quickly. "No, I'm not. It's just ... I ... last time you ... you didn't listen to me or believe me and ..."

"That was then," he explained softly. "This is now. And you're not lying to me. So I believe you." He clenched his fist, staring down at his reddened and bleeding knuckles. "God damn that fucking son of a bitch bastard ... I ... I outta ..."

"Your hand," she cooed, reaching out to grab his hand, staring down at his throbbing fist. "Oh God, you ... you shouldn't have punched the wall like that."

"I just can't help it," he snarled, his body tensing and his shoulders broad and stiffening. "I'm gonna pop I'm just so mad and that fucking cock sucking jackass. Who the fuck does he think he is ..."

Trish looked up in his eyes as he continued to swear, his eyes blazing with the anger towards Mr. McMahon. A tiny smile pulled at her lips as he continued to seethe, the obscenities rolling off his tongue. How protective, how honest and how defensive he was of her. How he trusted her and defended her and ... she couldn't resist him.

Chris's eyes widened, his words cut off when her lips were suddenly on his, her kiss sweet but passionate. It was only a few seconds but that didn't matter, every desire fired and he felt himself grow hard against her. He closed his eyes, awaiting the moment she pushed him away and called him a pig.

But she didn't.

He shuddered, his body raging when she moaned, pressing closer to him and wiggled her hips, rubbing against his quickly hardening bulge. He would explode at any moment if she continued to tease him.

Trish broke the kiss, staring up into his eyes and she licked her kiss swollen lips as he panted onto her face.

"Oh God, Baby," he growled, running his hands around her and hugging her close. "Baby, you can't tease me like that."

"I can feel why."

He chuckled, rubbing his hands along her sides and then up to cup her face. "God, are you gorgeous," he sighed.

"I have tape over a broken nose."

"And you are so absolutely beautiful."

Trish smiled, gently, taking a few steps back from him. Her brow rose, her eyes flickering seductively and they darkened.

Jericho groaned deep in his throat as she reached up, linking her fingers into the top of her towel. And just like that, the towel dropped to the floor. "Good God!" he exclaimed in a deep raspy voice, his excitement showing even more prominent in his tights. "Baby, for the love of God, don't tease me."

"Who's teasing?" she asked, seductively approaching him again, her hands clutching at his hair, tangling in the blonde mane as she pulled his head to her, her mouth on his.

"I want you," he growled against her lips and he quickly lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the couch and then laid her down. He settled on top, wasting no time as his mouth devoured hers.

"Mmmm," she hummed, tilting her head to the side as his lips traveled down her throat. Her eyes focused momentarily on the clock on wall at the opposite side of the room. "We only have ten ... oh God, you're good at that," her body rocked into his, her hips grinding at him. "Quick, Baby," she begged, her hands reaching down to pushing his tights off his hips. "Quick. I ... I need you now."

"Baby," he groaned as his tights pushed down his thighs, staying just above his knees and he lifted up, glancing down at her. "I want to ..."

"Later," she pleaded, her voice begging for him as her body arched. "Now, Chris. Please. God, I want you so bad."

He growled as her lips attacked his again, her hands assaulting his sensitive body and his control dwindled. He needed her. And he needed her now.

* * *

Vince McMahon smiled cockily as he strode down the arena corridor. So he hadn't gotten the busty blonde to strip for playboy. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen what she possessed in the nude. And oh did he get an eye full that evening. The voluptuous woman removing her towel, showing him every one of her assets.

He couldn't help but chuckle at the memory. Oh yes, that vision of Trish Stratus will stick in his mind for another few years. It had been almost three years since he spent a night with that beautiful blonde and he'd been yearning for that experience again.

He tried to convince her to his bed that evening. Hoping that she would take up his offer. The anger charged through his body at her refusal. How dare she deny him. He was Vince McMahon. Who did she think she was? What loyalties could she possibly have to deny him?

Either way, he made her pay for saying No. He fully intended her to pose for Playboy Magazine but when she turned that down too, he contrived a most beautiful scheme. Not only would he see her naked beauty, but he could take a swat at the NFL while he was at it.

Oh and what a lovely sight she was. So curvaceous and so gorgeous. Vince could feel his excitement for that woman tingling through his body. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted her. Maybe, he'd have to push his real wants on the woman he'd desired ever since he signed her contract with the WWE.

* * *

Chris Jericho moaned, collapsing onto the woman's body beneath him. He squirmed slightly, his head turned into her neck as he panted onto her slicked skin. He was exhausted, beyond tired and yet so absolutely satisfied. His eyes fluttered open and he moaned again as her fingers combed through his hair, her touch gently caressing his back.

"Mmmm, Sweetie," she hummed with a smile on her face. "You're so good."

A smile pulled at his lips and he snuggled further into her hot body, ignoring the chill of the locker room stroking his back. He just didn't want her to be cold. "God, I forgot how amazing it felt to be with you."

She tightened her arms around him for a moment and then turned her head, placing a slow wet kiss on his ear. "It's amazing being with you too." She chuckled. "There went our plan to take it slow."

He laughed, wiggling against her and then pressed his lips to her throat. "Well you were the one who jumped me, Baby."

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

Grunting, Chris pushed up on his elbows, balancing to either side of her as he looked down on her face. "What you apologizing for?"

"For being so forward," she explained, shaking her head and averting her eyes from him. "For what I did before and not ... and then what we did now and I ... I didn't even give you a chance to ..."

He leaned down then, covering her mouth was his, silencing her with a fiery passionate kiss. When the kiss ended, he pulled back, his lips hovering over hers for a moment until he snuggled back against her, placing his lips on her ear for a soft kiss.

"Chris," she breathed. "I ..."

"Shhh," he hushed, not wanting her to speak. "I've been dreaming of his moment for months. You don't have to apologize. It was special to me, Sweetie. Believe that. And God, Baby, I can't believe that I finally felt you again."

Trish smiled as he kissed her ear again, slow, wet and sensual and she let her head fall to the side. Her eyes fell on the clock. "Oh God, Chris." Her voice was filled with panic. "Chris, your match is in five minutes."

He groaned, pushing away from her and he smiled down at her face. "Damn these matches. Always at the most inopportune moments."

Trish leaned up then, kissing him once and then again on the mouth. "We both have to get ready. I have a pretty rough match too, tonight."

* * *

Jericho's eyes narrowed as he watched Lita return from the ramp and walk behind the curtain. "I bet you're really proud of yourself, huh?" he quipped, his arms crossed in agitation.

"You bet I am," she responded, a smile on her face. "I don't give two damns about that little bitch's title. I just like making her life a living hell. Just like she did mine."

"So you'd rebreak her nose week after week. Takes a lot of courage to go for a weak spot."

Lita stopped, turning to face the man who spoke to her. "What's this? Chris Jericho defending Trish Stratus?"

"I'm saying that you're better than that, Lita." Jericho replied. "Why do you have to humiliate her every damn time?"

"Because that's what she did to me," Lita spat back. "I was at my worst and what did she do? She kicked me when I was down. You know, I didn't want her support. I didn't want her friendship. But she couldn't just leave me alone, could she. And now that I'm back? You want me to lay off?" she scoffed. "Fat chance."

Chris approached the redhead slowly, his eyes intense and dangerous as he looked down at her. "And I'll bet you're really proud over what you did at Survivor Series, huh?"

"Damn right I am," Lita snapped back, her eyes narrowed at this unexpected attack, and from Chris Jericho at that. "I didn't mean to break her nose, but I'm damn glad I did. The only thing she cares about is the surface so now she's exposed for what she really is."

"And what would that be?" Jericho asked, his patience running short.

"A two cent whore."

Jericho glanced to his left at that answer.

Edge stood there, a huge grin on his face and he sauntered over, placing himself between Jericho and the redheaded woman. He cocked his head to the side, his eyes amused as they searched the other man's. "Did you hear my response? I said ... a two ... cent ... whore."

"I heard you," Jericho answered, a dangerous glare in his eyes.

"Chris, no."

Lita's eyes widened as Trish walked over and grabbed Chris's arm, pulling on him.

"Chris, please. Don't."

"Oh, I don't believe you heard what he said," Jericho drawled back, a smile on his face. "I think I may have to teach stumpy here a lesson."

"Stumpy?" Edge's eyes fired, infuriated with Jericho's words. "If anyone's stumpy here ... it would be you." He raised his pinky finger to the air, showing Jericho and then curving it slightly. "Aww, look how cute he is. Poo Poo. A Boo Boo Boo."

Jericho growled, his eyes ablaze.

"Chris, no." Trish pleaded again and she pulled on his arm, trying desperately to pull him away. "After what Dave did to you, you're in no condition to fight. Please, please don't."

Chris chuckled. "And even like this, I can still take it to Edge without a problem." Jericho's smile was still bright. "So is that why Stacy left you? You looked at yourself more in the mirror than she did?"

"You son of a bitch," Edge growled and stalked forward, nose to nose with Jericho, daring him to make another move.

Chris didn't say a word, but stood his ground, glaring up at the other man.

Lita gripped Edge's arm, pulling on him. "Come on, Edge. They're not worth it. Let's go. Let's get out of here."

"Oh, on the contrary, Babe," Edge spat back. "He's quite worth it."

"Babe?" Jericho's brow rose and that cocky grin spread across his face. "So she's fucking you now, huh? So within the last six months that makes me, Jeff, Matt, Kane, and you?"

Edge bore his teeth.

"Tell me, Edge," Jericho said softly, just so that the other man could hear him. "How does it feel to be number five? Can you even tell you're inside her?"

Edge growled.

Jericho only shook his head. "Even when you know how Jeff feels about her. Some friend you are. What would you do if I told you that your brother was in love with her too?"

Edge didn't respond.

"I suppose you don't care about that now, do you? And Lita calls Trish a whore."

Edge recoiled.

Jericho fell to the ground with an 'Umph', Edge's fist impacting his jaw and knocking the smaller man right off his feet. Chris reached up, cupping his throbbing jaw with his hand. He didn't jump to his feet, but stayed where he was, glaring up at the other man.

Edge's stare remained intense. "You better watch your fucking mouth, Jericho. My business is my own and you'd be best to stay the fuck out of it if you know what's good for you." That said, the tall blond turned to look at Lita and the two walked down the hall and away.

Trish dropped to her knees at Chris's side and only when he knew they were alone, did he let the wince pull at his face. He clutched his abs, his other hand cupping the back of his head. "Oh God, Baby." She cooed, cupping his face in her hands and then running them down his body, pulling on his arms. "God, why did you do that?"

He hissed, pushing up to his feet and then ducked his head, cupping the back of his neck. "Because I'm sick and tired of Lita singling you out just to physically attack you. And then that jackass decided to get in the way."

"Come on, let's go back to the hotel. I think you need to lie down and relax. God, did Dave hurt you that much. I ... I never thought he could be that way."

"Batista's an animal," Jericho responded, walking back to his locker room with her and he pushed through the door, only to flop down on the couch, exhausted.

"Honey, we should leave." She said softly to him, removing the plastic mask from her face and holding it at her side.

A smile pulled at his lips as he gazed at her. "So lovely." He reached out for her, his arm outstretched and a pitiful pout fell onto his face.

She giggled, walking over to him and letting her take her hand. She let out a yelp as he pulled on her, tugging her onto him and she fell gracelessly onto his body. Wiggling quickly, she pushed up to look on his face. "Chris you ... you're injured and ..."

"Not that bad," he responded and leaned up to take her lips with his. He reveled in her whimpered moan and he band his arms around her as she leaned into him, her head tilted for easiest access to his mouth. The kiss fiery, passionate and needy yet still laced with the utmost affection.

When the kiss finally ended, Trish kept her eyes closed, her tongue peeking out of her mouth to lick her lips and savor the flavor of him, the feel. "Mmmm, I love it when you're affectionate."

"Well, I'm still pretty affectionate," he answered, his hands caressing her back. "And we can't leave yet cuz Randy wants me for something at the end of the show." He smiled mischievously and arched his hips into her. "And I have a little something that I need to take care of. I can't quite go out in public with _this_ now can I?"

An involuntary moan slipped past her lips, her eyes fluttering. "God, already? We ... it wasn't even an hour ago when ..." She swallowed hard.

Chris tilted his chin up, flicking his tongue at her lips a few times, teasing her as his hands caressed her back. "And we have about an hour until I have to go out there again. Much longer than we had last time. Baby, I want you again."

Trish licked her lips. "God, I can't say 'no' to you." Her mouth crashed to his.

* * *

Lita stared down at the cell phone in her hand, her thumb hovering over the 'send' button. His familiar number flashed before her and she just needed that extra push to call. They hadn't spoken since ... since ... She couldn't remember when.

Her eyes closed. She could remember their nights together though. They were beautiful. That was the only way she could describe those nights. Beautiful. He was the most attentive man she'd ever known. His words were beautiful, his actions were beautiful. He made her feel beautiful. Everything about their moments together. His kiss made her shiver, his eyes made her quiver. She just wanted to collapse. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

Did she really love Matt? She wasn't so sure now. And Kane? What of Kane? Though she loathed the man, he did protect her, kept her safe. Even if only for their baby's sake. And now Edge. She didn't know what she was thinking getting back with Edge, even if it was only for the sex.

Lita shook her head with a sigh, lowering the cell phone and clicking it shut. Who was she kidding? He'd never want to speak to her again. There was no point. Though she missed him, she simply couldn't find the courage to give him a call.

"Hey, Babe."

Lita jostled at those words, her hazel eyes looking up at the man who stood across from her.

Edge offered her a winning grin. "Don't look so down. I'll be fine. It's only a cage match and I've been in many."

She forced a smile at those words. Silly fool. Was he always this full of himself? "You'll be great." She said, taking his hand in hers and giving it a comforting squeeze. "I'm not worried about anything."

The tall blond smiled back, nodding with his pride. "I'm really glad that we've moved past ... it."

"I am too, Edge."

"I never meant to hurt you."

"I know."

Edge grinned at that, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "Come on, walk me to the ramp."

* * *

This time it was Trish's turn to collapse, her sweat slicked body falling onto his as she went limp. Her head nuzzled into his naked chest, her body still quivering from what they had just done.

"Mmmm," he hummed, tracing his hands along her sweaty back. "Wow."

"Yeah," she panted onto his neck, tilting her head a little then sealing her lips in a soft kiss on his Adam's apple. She smiled when he growled at the sensation. "You like that?"

"Mmm hmmm," was his only response as she nibbled and nipped at that part of his throat. He moaned his disappointment when she stopped, her arms on his chest as she propped herself up to look on his face. He frowned. "Why'd you stop? It's only 10:30." He leaned up, his lips seeking hers.

But Trish pulled back from him, not moving, just simply turning her head away, not letting him kiss her. She smiled coyly. "No more yet. You're hurt from Dave and I'm not gonna make it worse."

"But you're such a wonderful distraction."

She shook her head and then lay back down, her hands rubbing over his sides as she relaxed into him, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "Just stay like this. This is nice."

Jericho smiled. "And it's even nicer that we didn't lock the door."

Instead of shooting up in alarm, like he expected, she only chuckled. "There's always something so sexy about the thought of getting caught."

"Oh is there ever," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "Trish?"

"Mmmm."

He smiled. "Can we go again?"

Disbelieving, she pushed up, staring down into his eyes with an incredulous expression. "Again? Already? God, are you that horny?"

"Kinda," he responded but then reached up to touch her face. "Not now necessarily. I just want to cuddle for now." He pulled her down, and smiling, she obeyed, meeting his lips in a soft kiss.

One soft kiss and then one more, she pillowed her head on his shoulder again. "When we get back to the hotel. Then maybe."

Chris smiled his appreciation. "And just think. It'll be the first time we have sex in a bed. I think that calls for a celebration." That said, he flipped them, being careful with her so they didn't fall off the couch and after some squirming and situated, he had her pinned beneath his body.

She flashed a knowing stare. "Chris? What are you doing?"

He rocked his hips, adoring how her eyes fluttered at the sensation. "I told you already. We're celebrating."

She reached up, pressing one hand to his lips. "We've been celebrating all night."

"That's right," he answered. "And now we're celebrating that later we're going to celebrate in a bed for the first time. That calls for a celebration."

She cocked her brow at him, an amused smile pulling at her lips. "I can't believe you want to go again."

"Wanna know a secret?" he asked, in a whisper, leaning down close to her.

She nodded, sucking her lower lip into her mouth.

Chris leaned further down, his lips right at her ear. "Sometimes, I imagine what it would have been like if I wasn't a fool. If I never messed up between us. And I imagine what it would be like if we'd have been making love since this time last year. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like, if I never saw that tape and I never overreacted and I never lost you. Sometimes I wonder how I can be the stupidest man on the planet and yet still have you in my arms right here ... right now."

"Oh Chris," She sighed, her arms tightening around him.

He nodded against her, his lips brushing her ear with the movement. "I've dreamt about us, about our futures and I ... I just can't stand the thought of anyone hurting you. We have so much time that we've wasted and I'm mostly responsible." He pushed up from her, staring down into her beautiful face. "I don't want to waste any more time, Baby."

A tear slipped from the corner of her eye. "Me neither, Sweetie."

Chris's smile broadened at those words and he was tempted to spill his heart. To admit his undying love for her, to pledge himself eternally to her. But no, he couldn't. She wouldn't want to hear that from him. She wouldn't want that. She doesn't love him like that, at least not yet. She ...

His thoughts were cut off when her mouth found his again, leaving no doubt in his mind of for what she yearned.

* * *

Christian narrowed his eyes, his gaze darkening at what he witnessed. Lita stood in the arms of Edge by the curtain to the ramp and the man was kissing her. A growl slipped past his lips as the woman tangled her fingers in the blond man's hair.

He yearned to be the man she kissed that way. But in recent months, she's forgotten his existence. Well not anymore. She would know who Christian is. She'll remember what he's done and what he's always done for her.

"I'll show you, Edge." He snarled to himself. "I'll show you I'm the better brother. I'll show her. I'll show everyone."


	9. November 29, 2004

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin 

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

November 29, 2004

Randy Orton smiled appreciatively as he leaned in the doorframe to a random locker room, his eyes scanning the long form of the woman inside. She hadn't seen him yet as she was currently engaged in trying to sign a pair of panties. He cocked his head the other way, crossing his arms over his chest.

He watched silently as the woman scowled a moment, trying her best to get a decent signature, though it was hard considering she was signing a piece of fabric without something hard beneath it.

"You can put it on the bench, you know."

Stacy Keibler jumped at the voice, her eyes wide as they flew to the door and her haste, her hand released her robe.

Randy's eyes widened at the show he was given and then he cleared his throat, ducking his head as a heavy blush spread across his cheeks.

"Randy!" Stacy exclaimed, quickly grabbing the flaps of her robe and closing it, a flush rising to her own cheeks. "Randy, what are you doing here?"

A sly grin spread across his face as he glanced up at her from his down turned position. "Enjoying the view."

Stacy's flush deepened as she nervously expelled a shaky breath and she quickly swallowed, trying to still those nerves. Why did he have to look so sexy like that? She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.

He stood tall, sauntering into the room and letting the door swing closed behind him. He smiled as she gulped and his smile warmed as he stepped closer still. "I really liked what I saw out there."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, weakly.

"Now, I know what you're thinking," he said, his hands raised submissively. "You're going to think I'm talking about the strip show." He slowly shook his head, reaching out with a single finger to hook her chin. "That's not what I'm talking about."

Stacy swallowed hard again. "What ... what are you talking about?" her voice was breathy and laced heavily with seductive nerves.

Randy leaned down slightly, his eyes on hers, locked intensely. "When you kissed me on the cheek." He clarified in a gruff voice. "Well after that, I was simply undone. Had to go over to you after that and stand next to you, pull you against me."

"You're a big flirt, Randy Orton." Stacy replied, looking away from him. "I'm the fifth girl you've flirted with tonight."

"And you're the last."

Stacy whipped her head back, her eyes meeting his. Confusion filled her and that emotion remained evident in her sparkling eyes. "What?"

"I said, you're the last." He repeated. "I'm a big flirt. I admit that. I always was and always will be. But there aren't many that I follow through with. And right now ... well, I'm with you."

She swallowed hard.

Randy only continued to smile, stepping even closer to her until merely an inch separated them. He reached out, his large warm palm cupping her cheek and he let his eyes roam her face. He sighed as he brushed his thumb over her soft lips and then down her chin. His eyes focused on those moist delicious lips and he bit back a moan when a little pink tongue poked out of her mouth licking those luscious lips wet.

She licked her lips again, her nerves quite evident in her eyes and she shuddered as his thumb stroked her mouth again.

Randy controlled every lustful thought and need in his body. This woman really had no idea what she was doing to him. His one palm still on her face, he reached up with his other hand, sliding that warm hand to her neck and then around to cup its back. She shivered at the sensation, her own hands gripping tighter at her robe to keep it closed. He didn't care though. That wasn't what he wanted ... yet.

Stacy gasped as Randy's lips covered hers. Good God, so this is what Randy's kiss feels like. So soft and warm but still passion laced and needy. His mouth adored hers, circling against her as he wiggled his tongue against her lips, begging for entrance. With a sigh, she parted her lips.

A small groan rumbled in his throat as he slid his tongue into her mouth, kissing her slowly, sensually. He nearly died when he felt her respond the same way. His heart fluttered as the kiss continued and he shivered when her hands abandoned her robe to cup his head, her arms banding around his neck as her fingers raked through his hair.

She shuddered and trembled when his hands traced down her shoulders and along the skin of her neck. She didn't fight him as he slowly pushed at the robe, exposing more of her shoulders. Stacy released him only for a moment, shaking the robe from her shoulders and letting it slip to the floor before her arms and hands returned to him. She didn't know what was coming over her. She'd never been this forward with a man in her life.

Randy moaned as he trailed his hands down her naked back and then his arms tightened, pulling her flush against him, his head tilting further to kiss her even deeper.

Stacy gasped, her eyes flying opened as she felt his throbbing hardness pushing against her and she quickly cupped his face, pushing him back from her. He emitted a pitiful whimper as his mouth was separated from hers but he licked his kiss swollen lips and gazed down into her eyes.

"Only if you want me," he whispered, his voice barely audible and he leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers.

Swallowing hard, she offered a shaky nod, unable to tear her eyes off of him.

"Say it," he begged as her lips moved closer to his. "I have to hear it. Please, Stacy."

His voice pleaded with her and it was a tone she never expected to hear from Randy Orton. She didn't understand it, though she knew there had to be something more to his motives. But she simply couldn't bring herself to care. He felt too good and she didn't want to give that up.

"Say it, please."

"I want you, Randy," she breathed on his lips. "I want you now."

Randy sighed his relief, a beautiful smile on his face and his eyes managed to brighten at just the sound of those words. He captured her mouth.

* * *

Trish Stratus narrowed her eyes, glaring at the back of that cocky son of a bitch as he walked away from her. She knew the cameras had turned off and furious, she tore the plastic mask off her face and stalked after him. "Jericho!" she yelled.

Chris stumbled when her title belt impacted his back and he winced, turning around to face her. "Ow!"

"What the hell are you trying to do?" she spat, tossing the plastic mask at him. "God, you can be such a _bastard_ sometimes, do you know that? I ..."

Her words were cut off when he cupped her face, his lips finding hers in a soft gentle kiss. His mouth lingered far longer than normal and when he eventually pulled back, they were both breathless.

Trish didn't say anything at first, but simply licked her lips, regaining her breath. Then she swatted at his arms. "Why do you always do that?"

He chuckled, stepping back from her as he approached his locker room.

She followed him every step and once inside, she let the door close behind her. She crossed her arms over her chest, letting her title belt drop to the floor. "You always do that," she scolded again. "You always just assume that if something's wrong, you can kiss me and make it all better. It doesn't work that way, Chris."

"I understand," he answered, turning to her with a sympathetic nod. He walked up to her then, reaching out to touch her face. "Now back to that lovin."

When he leaned down, she pressed her fingers to his lips, keeping him back. However, she couldn't keep the smile off her lovely face. "Is that really all you think about?"

"Not always," he responded, cocking his head as he gazed into her eyes. When she lowered her hand, he smiled mischievously. "But most of the time."

As soon as the words left his mouth, his lips were on hers again, his kiss tender and affectionate as he reached up to cup her cheek.

Again the kiss ended and his smile was still on his face as he looked down into her beautiful eyes. "Don't you love how I flirt with you on camera?"

Trish offered a mock scowl, her eyes narrowing at him. "If that's how you flirt, I'd hate to see what you'd do if you ... if you still hated me."

He cupped her face then before she could duck away. "I never hated you." He said, intensely. "Never. I may have said it. But I never meant it. I was just really hurt."

"I'm sorry I hurt you," she said softly, touching his cheek and brow with her fingers. "I ... I did it for you. I ... I never wanted to see you hurt." She shrugged. "Well except after you ..."

"God, I can't believe I did that." He interrupted. "I just lost control and I ... I hit you and ..."

"Honey," she cooed when tears sprung to his eyes and she reached up to wipe them away. "Honey, no no. It's ok. I've forgiven you. I ..."

"You shouldn't forgive me that easily." He protested, the tears still in his eyes. "You shouldn't and ..."

She silenced him with a long heart wrenching kiss. Her tongue, her lips proved her devotion to him. Breathless, she finally pulled back, but only enough so she could speak. Her arms encircled his neck, her eyes still closed. "I wouldn't be here with you or made love to you last week, or kissed you as many times as I have if I didn't forgive you."

"I still don't understand how you can trust me."

"To be honest, I don't." she answered and she could feel his heart break. "But ..." she kissed him once and then again. "I trust that you care about me. And that you wouldn't have acted the way you did if you didn't care. The fact that you were willing to let Hunter pummel you with a sledge to ensure that I got away is enough to prove your devotion to me. And there will probably always be something in the back of my mind and maybe I'm a little nervous if you ever get angry."

"I'm sorry."

"I know," she replied, stroking his cheeks. "But like last week when you were angry and you didn't do a thing to me. You didn't lay a hand on me and I ... I realize that you don't want to hurt me."

"I don't, I really don't."

"Shhh," she hushed him. "Kiss me."

Chris obeyed her, closing the little distance between them for a soft kiss. "You happy about the match for next week?"

"Mmm hmm," she nodded with a smile to match his. "I wanna get my hands on her for what Edge did to you."

Chris's brow furrowed. "Wait ... you lost me."

"Well," she began coyly. "You stood up for me to Lita and then Edge got involved and because of Lita and me you got punched. Well if Lita didn't do what she did to Jeff, I wouldn't be so ... well, so upset. And now wounds are far too deep to heal."

He offered a sorry nod and then gathered her in his arms, pulling her against his chest. "Come here, Sweetie."

Trish sniffled, wrapping her arms around his neck as she hugged him. "God, it hurts so much, Chris."

"I know."

"Lita was my friend," Trish continued, her voice quivering slightly with emotion. "She meant so much to me and we loved each other. We were like sisters. We've been through so much together and I ... I don't know how things fell apart so fast."

"Tell me about Jeff," he cooed, his lips right at her ear. "Tell me what started this thing between you and Lita."

Trish sniffed, pushing back from him and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "It's such a long story. I ... I don't know."

"I tell you what," Chris said, placing his hands on her shoulders as he ducked down slightly to look in her eyes. "We'll both get cleaned up from our matches and then we'll head back to the hotel. That will give you some time to sort out your thoughts and you can tell me then. Okay?"

She smiled appreciatively. "Okay."

His smile matched hers and then he turned to the door.

"Chris."

"What?" he turned back to face her, his eyes displaying all the hope and emotion inside him. His eyes widened when she leapt into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist and she smiled down at him. He chuckled. "Well, you're being friendly."

"I just wanted to let you know ..." she trailed off, inching closer to him. "That I never hated you." She kissed him.

Chris let his eyes close as he returned her embrace, lacing his kiss with every emotion that he could. God, how he loved this woman. What she did to him. What she made him feel. Her tongue and her mouth, her body and her hands, every part of her raced his heart and this kiss was enough to drive him mad.

"Mmm," she hummed when he pulled away and she cupped his face in her hands. "You're so good with your mouth."

His smile brightened. "You don't know what it means to me to hear you say that."

Trish kissed him once and then one last time before sliding from his arms and back to her feet. "I think I do," she responded, lightly.

When she would turn from him, he took her hand in his. "Trish," she turned at his call and gazed up into his eyes. His smile grew nervous. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"We'll talk later." She responded.

"That didn't answer my question."

"I know," she responded then slid up against him again, kissing his lips. "Just forget about it for now. Go shower."

Slightly hurt by her quick dismissal, Chris nodded then walked out the door.

* * *

Christian watched from the shadows as Lita and Victoria walked down the corridor, the two women talking about one thing or the next. Lita even laughed a few times. As Victoria excused herself, Lita continued further down the corridor and she hitched her bag higher onto her shoulder.

She stopped walking then, turning her attention to her bag as she fished through one of the pockets. She pulled out a cell phone.

Christian squinted, trying to spy exactly what she was doing. She appeared to be dialing a number but then she paused. Thirty seconds, a minute, he didn't know how much time passed except that she didn't do anything.

Lita shook her head, changing her mind and then shoved the cell phone back into the bag's pocket.

Surprised, he let his eyes follow her as she continued down the corridor. She stopped again then turned around. He held his breath, sinking further into the shadows, hoping she wouldn't see it. He just couldn't muster the courage to talk to her yet. Now, where was she looking?

Lita's eyes focused on one of the locker room doors that she had just passed. And with a defeated sigh, she returned in that direction and knocked on the door.

Christian bit his lip, unsure of whom she was seeking. His eyes narrowed as the door opened. It was Edge.

"There you are," the tall Canadian said and he reached out to take the redhead's hand in his. He pulled her into the locker room.

When the door swung closed, Christian could only glare.

* * *

Randy let out a soft controlled moan as his eyes fluttered, his body tensed and the sweat pooled off of him. His body shuddering and quaking, he finally collapsed, his limbs spent as he caved onto the woman beneath him.

Stacy sighed in pleasured satisfaction and she wrapped her arms around him, her fingers combing through his hair. Her legs hooked around him, her heels into his thighs to hold him in place. She wasn't ready for him to move yet.

He panted, harshly, still unable to open his eyes. A long leather massage bench was in the center of the room, and they had been lucky to get to it. Currently pinning the tiny blonde beneath him, Randy stirred, not wanting to hurt her. She must be sticking to the thing.

"Shhh," she hushed, petting his hair and then along his shoulders. "Don't move."

Randy stilled, sighing his contentment. He turned his head then, his head tilting slightly so he could press his lips to the sweaty skin on her neck. Naked and tangled, entwined still, he pushed up just enough to look on her lovely face.

Stacy smiled, warm and soft as her fingers stroked his sweaty brow and then cheek. Her eyes were just as hazy as his, glassed with pleasured bliss. "You're very good."

He didn't verbally respond, his face still serious as he leaned down, kissing her mouth.

She moaned, leaning up into him and instantly deepening the kiss. She could still taste herself on his tongue and knew that he had to taste himself on her as well. And yet he didn't seem to mind, he only kissed her harder.

Breathless and too tired to continue, Randy pulled back but only far enough so he could press his forehead to hers.

Stacy giggled, placing her palms on his cheeks and tickling her fingers along his ears and then his hair. "You never struck me as the type to like to cuddle after ..." she flushed, unable to say the word.

His eyes stayed closed as he breathed slowly onto her face. "I love pillow talk," he admitted and then kissed the tip of her nose. He trailed his lips across her cheek, placing soft kisses every spot until he finally reached her ear. Stopping there, he swirled his tongue, placing a long wet and sensual kiss on her ear.

Stacy squirmed, humming with content and she couldn't stop smiling. "I hate to break it to you, but what you're doing isn't exactly talking."

"I know," he answered, kissing again and again and then he stopped, whispering in her ear. "But if I was talking, I wouldn't be able to do this." With that word, he began his slow assault on her ear again, his lips, his tongue slowly adoring her.

Stacy hummed. "Mmmm, I like the way that feels."

"Most women do." Randy continued with his task for a few more minutes and then he pushed up, his heart tugging at her whimper from the loss. "I know, Babe." He cooed gently. "I don't want to stop either. But the main even is soon and I know Dave and Ric are gonna interfere. I have to be ready."

"But I don't want you to go," she moaned, disappointed and she gripped him tighter, not letting him go.

He smiled down at her. "I tell you what." He glanced at the clock on the wall and then back to her. "I'm gonna go take a quick shower and get changed so that I can go out there, like I know I'm gonna have to do."

She pouted.

Randy leaned down, kissing her mouth, kissing that pout away and when he pulled back, she was smiling at him. "That's better," he said, softly. "I like it when you smile. So then while I'm doing that, you can get cleaned up to. And after RAW, we'll go get something to eat. How's that sound?"

"You're asking me to dinner?"

He chuckled. "I kind of ... you know should after what we just did."

She swatted at him, though the smile remained on her face. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying that ..."

He silenced her with a soft kiss, holding the kiss as long as he could. He pulled back slowly, letting his lips slide off of hers and he licked his lips then, savoring the flavor. "I'm just saying that I want to take you out to dinner."

"Well, I'm saying yes." She answered teasingly.

"Good," Randy said with a smile and then leaned down for a final kiss.

* * *

Trish kept her head low as she walked into the hotel room, nodding a 'thanks' at Chris for holding the door for her. She dropped her bag on the floor and then walked to the one bed and turned down the sheets. With an exhausted sigh, she fell onto the bed and kicked her shoes off before curling into a ball.

Chris sighed, letting the door close quietly behind him and then he placed his bag next to hers. "Honey," he cooed softly, crawling onto the bed with her. "I hate to see you sad. Did something happen at the arena after I left you?"

She let her eyes fall closed when he lay at her back and she didn't resist as he pulled her into his arms, embracing her tightly.

He pulled her closer still, pressing his head to the side of her and turning his head slightly, his lips brushing along her jawline. "I want you to talk to me. I want you to tell me what happened, what's wrong."

Trish shook her head, her body tensing momentarily.

Chris felt her tear drops fall from her eyes and onto his arms that cradled her. "Baby, don't cry." He begged. "Please."

She sniffed, doing her best to control herself and the painful memories that flooded her. She turned in his arms, facing him.

"Oh God, Honey," he breathed, letting his hands caress her back, his legs tangling with hers. "Honey, tell me. Let me help."

But she shook her head, choking on a sob and she cupped his head. "Make me forget."

He was shocked when her lips crashed to his, her kiss deep and desperate and needy. He couldn't help but respond, his eyes fluttering closed as he kissed her back. Her hands raked through his hair, clutching at him as she pulled him to her, begging for him to be on top of her.

Her body pleaded, her mouth and lips yearning as she kissed him. Her hands traveled through his hair and across his shoulders. She just wanted him in everyway.

"Wait," he panted when her lips trailed down his jaw and to his throat. He couldn't stop the little growl from slipping past his lips and yet she didn't stop. "Wait, Baby." He cupped her face, pushing her back so he could look in her eyes.

"I don't want to talk," she said, near tears. "I ... I just want you. I want you to ... to make me forget it all." She swallowed hard, her hands on his face again. "Even if it's just for a few hours. Please, Chris. Please."

"Promise me you'll tell me."

"I can't."

"Then when you're ready." He clarified. "Promise me that when you're ready, you'll trust me. And tell me."

She offered a short nod. "Yes. Yes, when ... when I'm ready." She tugged at his hair. "Please, Chris."

He closed the distance between them, kissing her passionately.

(I love reviews very very much. Please review. Or else I'll just have to blackmail.)


	10. December 1, 2004 Toronto Blade Trinity

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin 

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

December 1, 2004

2:00 PM

Chris Jericho nervously licked his lips. He couldn't believe what he was doing. He couldn't believe he'd gotten here so fast. He couldn't believe he was standing outside Trish Stratus's front door.

As much as they've grown together in their relationship, they hadn't yet taken the step to each other's homes. Though with a normal couple, this would have happened far sooner, Chris remembered only seeing her home on her DVD and whatever television show she wanted.

Swallowing his nerves and doing his best to control his raging emotions, he knocked on the door. He had to find her. He had to see her and stop her.

He could hear rustling inside and then her distinct voice. "Just a minute."

Chris didn't care. He wiped his palms on his pants, hoping they stopped sweating and he sucked his lower lip into his mouth, gnawing on it slightly. Closing his eyes a moment, he tried to regain his composure. He would be calm, and cool, and smooth, and easy-going, and relaxed. That's right. He would be relaxed.

The door opened. Trish Stratus cocked her head, her eyes full of confusion as she looked at him. Dressed in casual jeans and a sweatshirt, her hair pulled back into a tight pony tail and she wore only the slightest bit of makeup. "Chris?"

"You can't go," he said, hurriedly, stepping into her house and he reached out, cupping her face in his hands. "You can't go tonight. You can't go with them. God only knows what they're gonna do and I can't be there to protect you and what if something were to happen and I wasn't there. What ... what would I do? You can't go, Baby. God, you can't." He pulled her against his chest then, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. "You can't go."

"Chris," she said, softly, pushing against his chest though he fought her. Eventually, she was able to look up onto his face. "Chris, what are you talking about?"

"The screening tonight," he clarified, stroking his hands through her hair and then down her back, his eyes searching her face. "It's only going to be you and Evolution and I don't know what could happen and without me there ..."

"How did you ... how did you get here this early?"

"Randy told me," he explained. "And I left home as soon as I could. I ... I drove all the way here and I ... I drove all night and I got here and I have to stop you. I ..."

"Sweetie," she cooed, a beautiful smile on her face as she reached up and placed her fingers over his mouth, silencing him. "Baby, do you know how sweet that is?"

Confused, he furrowed his brow. "What? Sweet? Honey, I'm worried and scared out of my mind."

"I know," she responded. "But you drove all night to come and see me because you were worried. You have no idea how sweet that is."

"Well, I wasn't going for sweet." He quipped back, a slightly annoyed twinge in his voice. "This isn't a light matter. This is just freaking me out and you're cooing about how sweet this is? I'm having a heart attack over here!"

"Aw, Honey, no." She eased him, brushing her fingers along his cheeks and then combing through his hair. Her eyes remained soft and soothing and a small smile pulled at her lips. "No, don't get upset."

"How can you say that?" he asked, unnerved at how calm she was. "Don't you understand that I'm freaking out? I don't trust Hunter. And I don't see how you can be so easy going knowing that it's going to be you ... alone ... with Evolution."

"I'm not going to be alone, Honey," she responded light heartedly. "It's a movie premier. You know, photographers, reporters, fans ... people. I'm never going to be alone with Hunter."

Chris opened his mouth to speak.

Trish interrupted him, speaking before she could. "And Dave and Ric are going to be there."

"Oh wonderful," he jested, throwing his hands in the air. "The womanizer and the Neanderthal. That makes me feel so much better."

"Hey," she scolded. "Don't talk about them like that. Ric has been nothing but a sweetheart to me and Dave might be called 'the animal' but that doesn't mean he is one."

"Look," Chris began, his voice still annoyed. "Forgive me if I don't put all my faith in Flair and Batista. Considering all they've done is try to make my life a living hell and knock the pretty outta me, I'm sorry I can't see them in a different light. Especially after every encounter I have with Batista, he beats the hell outta me."

A smile pulled at Trish's lips and she had to press her lips together to keep from laughing.

"What?"

A small giggle slipped past her lips. "Knock the pretty outta you?"

He scowled.

"Baby," she reached out for him, letting her palms graze his cheeks and she leaned up, kissing his mouth softly. "Don't be so worried."

"I can't help it," he said, tossing his arms in the air as he turned from her. "I can't help feeling worried when ..." his eyes glanced around the foyer. "You have a ... beautiful ... house."

Trish's smile brightened, glad that the conversation had changed to something less worrisome. And her house was a happy subject. She loved and prided herself with the decorating of her humble abode. "Thank you."

"No, I mean it." He said seriously, taking a really good look around. "This ... wow."

She grabbed his hand then, tugging gently. "Let me show you around."

When the tour ended, Chris only sighed, staring at the pool table in her entertaining room. The bar, the pool table, the fuse ball and the hot tub. "It's ... it's like a playground ... but for adults."

Trish giggled. "That's the exact thing I said on my DVD. When I gave a tour of my house. And it is. Like a playground."

"Yeah," he answered then glanced at his wrist watch. "Oh man, it's already after three."

"I know," she said. "And I need to start getting ready to go. I have to leave here at four and meet ... meet Ric and Dave."

Chris closed his eyes.

"Look," she said, quickly, walking up to him and she gripped his arm. "Honey, just listen to me. Please."

Sighing, he turned to look at her, his eyes sadly meeting hers.

"Trust me," she pleaded with him. "I'll be alright. And Dave and Ric won't let anything happen to me. And I know that Linda will be there and I never had a problem with Linda. Stephanie will be there too and from what I hear, she'll be hanging off of Hunter so I might be in the clear for the night. And I doubt Vince will come anywhere near me, as long as I'm next to Dave. Trust me, Baby. Please. For me."

Chris sighed again, averting his eyes from her as his mind raced.

"Chris."

He shivered when she cupped his cheek with her tiny palm, turning his gaze to meet hers.

"Chris," she hushed. "Please. Just trust me that everything will be fine. You can stay here while I'm gone. Make yourself at home. You can make something to eat or order a pizza, play one of the games or watch a movie. You've been driving all night and I know you must want to shower or something. You can take a shower and then take a nap. Whatever you want to do."

Chris ducked his head, pressing his forehead to hers as he nuzzled her, most affectionate in his tender display. "I'm still worried."

"I know." She caressed her fingers down his brow and along his jaw. "I'll call before the movie starts to let you know I'm ok. And then I'll come right back ok?"

He nodded. "Ok. Ok, I ... I'll be ok."

"Thank you," she hushed, leaning up to him and letting her lips graze his. "I have to go get ready," she breathed onto his parted lips.

Chris shuddered as she walked away, his body aching to hold her again, to just have her near. But he didn't say a word.

* * *

Chris settled further into the comfortable couch, his eyes glancing at the wall clock across the room. It was ten to four and though he was exhausted, he simply wasn't in the mood to sleep. He could faintly here footsteps upstairs and the soft patting soon changed to a heavier clicking. She must have put on her heels.

Pushing off the couch, he wandered through the house and to the stairs. Glancing up, his breath caught as she was walking down. "Wow," he breathed, his eyes focusing adoringly at her pretty form. "Oh my God."

Trish smiled shyly, slowing walking down the stairs. "Does it look good?"

He sighed, his eyes slowly scanning her. She wore a tight little black dress, her legs perfect and covered with black tights and a delicate pair of black heels on her beautiful feet. Her hair was modestly styled and hung down, sweeping across her shoulders. Her make-up light but still accentuating the most perfect parts.

Trish flushed, ducking her head as she approached him. "I hope your silence is a good thing."

"Oh God, look at you," he breathed, reaching out to gently touch her face, though it was as if he were afraid, like he would tarnish her. He quickly retracted his hand. "I want to look at you."

She looked up at him.

He could only shake his head, his eyes widening with pleasure. "You ... you're so beautiful." He reached up again as if to touch her, but then thought better of it.

Trish grabbed his hand then, smiling as she opened his palm and pressed her cheek to the inside of his hand. "You can touch me, Chris. It's ok."

"Everything's so perfect though," he argued, softly, reaching up with his other hand to tentatively touch her other cheek. "I don't want to ruin you."

"Never, Sweetie," she purred at him and her smile brightened beautifully. She nuzzled against his hands, gripping his wrists to guide his hands down her neck and then sides, letting him caress her. "I love your touch."

Chris licked his lips, unable to stop his body from shuddering at her words, at this touch. "I ... I don't want you to go."

"Chris," she sighed, regretfully.

"No," he stopped her before she could continue. "I ... I don't want you to go because ... because you just look so ... so gorgeous. I ... I want you all to myself."

Her smile stretched even wider, her eyes dancing with affection and she cupped either side of his head with her hands. "You really are just the sweetest guy." She tugged gently on his head. "Come on. Give me a kiss."

"I don't know, Baby," he chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I don't want to ..."

"You won't smear my makeup." She said, coaxing him, tickling her fingers along his ears. "Come here."

Chris laughed, leaning down that extra inch and taking her lips softly with his. He was, however, frightened to be passionate or too intense.

She didn't seem to mind though and kissed him again and the one last time, still soft and gentle. When she pulled back, she reached up and ruffled his shaggy blond hair. "The shower is upstairs and the number for the closest pizza place is on the fridge. You know the address so just make yourself at home."

Chris smiled at her, nodding slowly. "I'll be waiting for you."

"You better be," she teased, lifting up onto her toes to kiss his cheek. "I'll see you tonight."

He watched her as she gave him a quick wave and then walked out the door. Standing, alone in silence for a moment, he sighed, his eyes longingly focused on the door. "I love you, Baby."

* * *

Chris's head shot up. Was that the door? He jumped to his feet, charging through the house and to the door. He skidded to a stop, his eyes falling on her tired, haggard form. "Baby?"

Trish forced a smile for him, not seemingly upset, but merely exhausted. "Hi, Hun. How ..."

"Oh my God," he injected, quickly, grabbing her by the hand and searching her face. "Are you ok? What happened? Did ... did they hurt you?" his face angered, searing. "I'll kill them. Where are they?"

"No, no," she stopped him, tugging on his hand. "I'm not hurt. Dave and Ric kept an eye on me and Hunter and Vince were so busy with the press and everything, they barely noticed me. I'm just exhausted, that's all."

He seemed to calm at her words and his shoulders relaxed, the tension melting away. "Did you enjoy the movie?"

"Yeah," she answered him though when her eyes met his, they flashed seductively. "But I have to admit. I was really distracted through a lot of it."

"Really?" He watched her intently, concerned. "Was something wrong?"

"Not wrong," she responded, grabbing his hands and walking backwards through the house, guiding him through rooms. "I was thinking about something."

"You were?" And still, he showed no signs of comprehension. He followed her the whole way and when she stopped, he only met her beautiful eyes. "Is it what happened on Monday? I still want you to tell me about that. Did something else happen?"

"No," she answered, a smile still on her face. "I don't want to talk about that stuff. Because I was thinking of something happy."

Confusion still laced his features.

Trish laughed at him, her eyes dancing with tenderness. "You, silly. I was thinking about you."

"Me?" his brow rose, a pleased smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You were thinking about me?"

"Of course," she said, releasing him and taking a few steps back. She glanced over her shoulder at the hot tub and then returned her gaze to him. "And I was thinking about us ..." she licked her lips, her eyes scanning his delicious body. His hair still wet and slightly slicked from his shower and he wore a tattered white tee-shirt over grey sweatpants. "And about what you said to me before I left. About wanting me alone."

"I still want you."

"I want you too," she said, her voice seductive and deep. "And I was thinking ... that maybe you'd want to join me ... in the hot tub."

He groaned at that, his eyes darkening at the prospect. "I ... I don't have my suit."

Trish smiled, her eyes gleaming with mischief and desire and Chris couldn't contain his moan as she reached around to her back. He could hear her slowly unzipping her dress and he only prayed that he could control himself. She cocked a brow. "Who said _I_ was planning on wearing a suit."

Chris moaned, his eyes scanning her voluptuous curves. God, how he loved this woman. Unable to resist her, he moved quickly to her, his hands cupping her face and Trish's smile beamed, her hands abandoning her zipper, which was half way down and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

She hummed when his mouth found hers, their kiss intense and passionate yet still pure and she shivered when his hands traced around her, caressing her bare back before finding that zipper and finishing her task. She pulled her hands back, letting the dress fall from her body and to the floor. His hands were on her back again, his mouth never leaving hers as his touch set fires through her body.

Trish sighed into his mouth, her knees caving as she clutched at him, her hands sliding up the back of his shirt, her nails digging into his back. The sensations, the emotions, the affection, everything this man fired within her. She'd never felt this way in her life. No man ever made her feel like Chris Jericho did. And she loved him for it.

Chris managed to deepen the kiss, his hands abandoning her only momentarily when she tugged at his shirt. And his eyes darkened as they locked on hers. He ripped the shirt over his head. Their bodies crashed together again, hands roaming as their mouths met in a heart wrenching kiss.

Breathless again, he broke apart from her, staring down heatedly into her eyes.

Trish licked her lips, her eyes unwavering from him, her heart raced, her need for him swelling. Panting, trying desperately to catch her breath, she swallowed hard, her hands splaying on his cheeks.

"Trish," he sighed, his body yearning for her. His mouth dripped for her and he licked his lips, desperate to ravage her mouth again.

She swallowed again, her body shaking with the need and want he sparked within her and when he kissed her again, she melted under him. His hands, his mouth, everything quivered inside her. His kiss, his lips and tongue tangled and danced. Her stomach dropped to around her ankles and her hands raked harshly through his hair, positioning his head and mouth just where she wanted him.

Intensifying and deepening the kiss, Chris slid his hands down her hips and under the pantyhose at her waist and he pulled back from the kiss to watch her face as he caressed her hips and waist, easing the pantyhose down her hips at an excruciating pace.

Trish shivered and moaned at the feel of his warm palms. "I love you."

"I love you too," he answered and his mouth covered hers again for a deep impassioned kiss.

(I had to put this chapter in after I heard of Trish attending the Toronto premier of Blade: Trinity. And isn't this just the perfect way for this to happen for them? Don't worry. It's not over yet.)


	11. December 6, 2004

SO this site is giving me scripting errors and after FUCKING with it for over half an hour and getting nothing but scripting errors that causes my system files to go Berserk ... I can't put breaks between the scenes so I CAN"T BE FUCKING BOTHERED!

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin 

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

December 6, 2004

Chris Jericho winced, looking away as he watched that fiery redhead bend the wrong way. He only shook his head, groaning at the muscle pull and he reached back to rub the back of his neck. "Damn it, why does she always insist on flying."

"Cuz she thinks she still can."

Jericho glanced to the door at the voice and he sighed with relief as he spotted Chris Benoit. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

Benoit chuckled, walking further into the room and he sat next to his friend, watching the monitor. "By the way, who ever told you that you could sing."

"Shut up, man," Jericho shot back light heartedly. "I can sing. I was just out of breath and nervous cuz it's been a while since I sang with Fozzy, ok? That and I couldn't really hear them or myself."

Benoit didn't respond but watched as his friend returned his full attention back onto the screen. He watched the fast pace match, catching the grin that spread onto Jericho's face when Trish removed her mask, flashing a seductively sly smile.

Jericho's grin brightened, his eyes beaming as he gazed at the woman. "That's it, Baby. Come on. Get her."

Benoit cracked a grin, mildly interested in the match, more interested in his friend. "So what did you think of that kiss?"

Jericho narrowed his eyes, his teeth clenched. "Whore."

"Uhm ... you wanna clarify that for ..." Benoit trailed off as Jericho flashed a most dangerous glare in Benoit's direction. Benoit nodded. "Right Lita. Lita ... real whore."

Jericho returned his eyes to the monitor, his chin resting on his hands as he rocked nervously. He was really getting into the match. He hissed, his head twitching slightly in sympathy. "God, come on Baby. Kick out. Kick out."

Benoit couldn't help but smile, watching happily as his friend gushed over the woman he cared about. "She'll kick out."

"Yeah," Jericho shot back. "As long as Lita doesn't do something stupid ... again."

Benoit chuckled, lounging back on the couch as he watched with relative ease. "She'll be fine. She'll win."

"I know she'll win." Jericho said, watching intensely, his eyes glued on the wrestling women. "She'll win because she's that good and because she's better. And because ... oh God, no."

Benoit's eyes widened as he saw Lita climb the turnbuckle, preparing for a moonsault. "Oh Man."

"Get up, Baby." Jericho called to the screen, standing as his fists clenched with his passion. "Get up!"

Trish didn't. Lita leapt off the turnbuckle, executing a perfect moonsault on the tiny blonde.

"NO!" Jericho cried.

1 ...

2 ...

3

Jericho stood, shocked, his jaw agape. "No."

"I'm sorry, man." Benoit rested a comforting hand on Jericho's shoulder.

"God, I have to go to her."

Benoit didn't question as his friend raced from the room.

Randy Orton growled, still pacing his locker room, his shoulders tense.

Stacy Keibler watched him nervously, her eyes never leaving his form. He hadn't put a shirt back on and stomped around the room shirtless and in his perfect Docker pants. She sunk a little further into the couch, hoping he didn't vent his frustration out on her.

"That son of a bitch," Randy growled, his eyes ablaze as he stormed around the locker room. "That fucking son of a bitch who in the fucking hell does he think he is." He clenched his teeth. "I'm gonna fucking Kill him!"

She flinched, ducking her head as she cuddled a little further into the couch. "Randy, please don't yell."

He sighed, sitting next to her and taking her smaller hand with both of his. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I don't mean to yell at you or scare you."

"It's ok," she replied nervously. "I understand that you're upset."

"I know but I should never take it out on you." He said softly, pulling her hands into his lap and offering a warm gentle smile. "I don't mean to frighten you. Forgive me?"

Stacy glanced up at him from batted eyes, almost wary to meet his eyes.

"Aw, Honey," he cooed, leaning down to her and kissing her as sweetly as he ever could. "I'm sorry."

After his kiss, the largest smile spread across her face and her eyes sparkled as she looked at him. "It's ok."

"So you forgive me?" his brow rose hopefully, his clear eyes locked on her lovely face.

She slowly licked her lips at him, her eyes scanning down his face to rest on his luscious lips. "Only if you kiss me like that again."

Randy didn't need any further coaxing as he leaned in again, taking her lips with his in the most tender embrace. He held the kiss as long as possible before slowly pulling away, only far enough to speak. "How's that for forgiveness?"

"Mmmm, delicious." Stacy responded then licked her lips, savoring the taste of him.

"Excellent," he said with a winning grin. "I'll shower later. I'm not that sweaty anyway. Come on. Let's get out of here now."

She nodded, cupping his face in her hands and offering him another sweet kiss.

Chris raced down the arena corridors, his brow furrowed and he suddenly slowed his pace. He could see the curtain to the ramp just ahead but there was someone standing off to the side and in the shadows, waiting patiently. He approached the figure. "You're here?"

Jeff Hardy nodded, sinking a little further into the shadows as his eyes focused on the curtains. "Hey."

Chris stood next to the younger man, aware that they were standing in quite a darkened part of the backstage area. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see my girl."

"Which girl is that?"

"I guess that depends," Jeff answered. "On what I witness right now."

"Lita won," Jericho said with venom, his voice harsh and laced with hatred.

Jeff stepped slightly out of the shadows as Lita raced down the ramp stairs, the title belt over her shoulder and a huge grin on her face. She took the belt in her hands and stared at it before glancing around the backstage area.

Jeff's brow rose almost hopeful in his expectations.

Lita squealed, her body full with excitement as she ran towards the man across the way.

Jeff watched with cold eyes as Lita threw herself into another man's arms, the woman's hands tangling through his hair as she placed a harsh passionate kiss on the blond man's mouth.

Jeff sneered, turning his head away and his eyes closed, willing that vision from his memory.

"I'm sorry," Jericho apologized, softly. "I was going to warn you but ... but it was just too late." He glanced over at the still embracing couple and that's when he saw Trish. His eyes widened, pleading for her.

"Jeff!" the blonde woman called.

Jeff looked up in time to catch the blonde woman, and he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close. He ducked down, burying his head into her neck as he tightened the embrace.

Chris swallowed hard, his arms dropping to his side. She hadn't run to him. She ran to Jeff. He willed the pain in his heart to subside though it didn't.

"Oh God, Jeff," she cried, tightening her arms around his neck. "Jeff, it's been too long. Where ... where have you been? God, I ... I haven't seen you in so long and ..."

"I know," Jeff said softly, controlling any emotions within him and he eased her back from him then, looking down on her face. "I guess it has been too long." He looked up again and over Trish's shoulder, his eyes meeting those of a very shocked redhead.

Trish glanced back over her shoulder, glaring at the redhead who was currently entangled in Edge's arms. She returned her gaze to the youngest Hardy. "Jeff? Why are you here? What ... how have you been?"

"Not much, actually," he replied softly, his voice so gentle and drawled. It was just like she remembered it. The calm sedate Jeff Hardy. "Just doing my thing and I heard about this match tonight. So I had to come by."

"Jeff."

He closed his eyes at the sound of her voice. He knew she was approaching and he turned his eyes to Jericho, hoping for some sort of answer.

Chris offered none.

Trish, on the other hand, spun on angered heels, her eyes dangerously flaring as she glared at the approaching woman. "What in the hell do you think you're trying to pull?"

"It's ok, Trish," Jeff said, gently, easing her to the side and standing beside her, his eyes on the redhead. "Calm down."

"Calm down?" The little blonde screeched, her brow furrowed, furiously. "Calm down?!"

"Shhh," Jericho hushed, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back against his chest. He held her in place.

Trish didn't fight him, on the contrary, she shuddered when her back pressed against his chest. But his actions did little to suppress the anger inside her.

Lita stopped a few feet from the other group and Edge stepped right behind her, placing a protective hand on the redhead's hip. Lita swallowed hard, licking her lips and her eyes flashed with nerves. "Jeff, I ... I've been trying to talk to you for months."

"I know," the youngest Hardy responded. He let his eyes focus on hers before turning towards the tall blond man. "You have no idea, do you?"

An angered expression fell onto Edge's features, defensive at those lightly spoken words. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Jeff answered with a small smile. He looked to Trish a moment before his eyes returned to Lita. He could easily read the hurt expression on the redhead's face. Swallowing hard, he licked his lips and slowly opened his arms to her.

Tears burst from the Lita's eyes and she choked on her cries as she flung herself into the young Hardy's arms, embracing him tightly, crying into his throat.

Edge could only offer a shocked expression. Trish, however, voiced her anger. "Jeff ... no! What are you doing?" She tried to pull away from Chris.

Jericho refused to release her. "No, Trish." Though his eyes still narrowed at the display.

Jeff sniffed himself, trying to ease the other woman back. She wouldn't release him.

"Jeff," she breathed against him, only loud enough for him to hear. "Jeff, I've missed you so much I ... I didn't know what to do. I'm so sorry about everything. I never meant to hurt you. I really didn't. I was confused and I didn't know what I was doing. Hell, I ... I still don't know what I'm doing. I ..."

"Lita," he eased her back then, his eyes locked on her pretty face and he reached up, cupping her face with his hand. Sighing, he leaned forward, pressing his lips softly to her forehead.

"Hey!" Edge yelled, finally breaking in and he pulled Lita back, shoving the Hardy hard by the chest. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Despite the taller man's anger, Jeff showed no sign of being intimidated. He simply looked up somewhat uncaring at the bigger man. He didn't respond, just stared.

Trish felt the anger and jealousy surging through her. She didn't know quite why she was jealous, but she was sure that was the emotion. Her eyes darted between both men and then she glared at Lita. What she saw ... surprised her?

Lita seemed frightened, unsure. It was the first time in a long while that the redhead didn't exhibit some form of fierce anger. She appeared tired, weak ... even lonely. The redhead easily felt someone's eyes on her and she turned her attention to the tiny blonde woman.

Trish couldn't help but gasp when Lita's eyes met hers. How long had it been since they looked at each other without hatred, without malice? In that moment, Trish missed the friendship they had more than anything and she knew that Lita felt the same way. She could see it in the redhead's hazel eyes.

Lita licked her lips, unable to hide the emotions inside her. She knew she missed Trish, what they used to have, the deep friendship they built over the years. Yes, there was competition and they were always racing for the gold but their feuds had never sparked such intense hatred within either of them before.

Trish could feel tears in her eyes. She missed having a woman friend, having a female friend she could go to with womanly problems or for advice, or to just have a girls night out. She missed all of that and she missed the fun that she and Lita used to have. She jostled when she was suddenly released and she turned her eyes back on the men.

Jericho released Trish, charging between the other men and standing between Edge and Jeff, standing so close to the taller man, almost nose to nose – if they were of equal height. But Jericho wasn't intimidated. His eyes narrowed as his glare darkened. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean, huh?"

"What do you think it means, Shortie?" Edge spat back, that cocky grin plastered on his face.

Jeff Hardy only sighed, shaking his head as he turned his back on the escalating situation.

"Jeff, wait!" Both women called and then looked at each other curiously.

Edge and Jericho also turned their attention to their respective women, confused as to why they called for Jeff.

Trish moved first, racing down the corridor after the youngest Hardy and she grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Jeff, wait. Where are you going?"

"I can't stay here," he said honestly and he watched as Lita approached him too but stayed a little further back because of where Trish stood. Jeff grabbed the little blonde's hand in his and then reached for Lita with the other.

Both Lita and Trish looked at him oddly with wide eyes, but he didn't care. He insisted. He stepped slightly closer to Lita, bringing Trish with him and he grabbed the redhead's hand too, much to the surprise of both women.

Jeff pulled them both closer to him, forcing them to stand beside each other and in front of him. He wanted to talk to them both.

The two women looked nervously at each other and then back to the man in front of them.

Jeff only sighed, ducking his head as he spoke softly. "I can't be here when everything's like this. While you two are at each other's throats like this. I know why Trish is acting the way she is and I know why Lita has done what she's done, but I ... I can't sit by and watch you two throw away the best friendship either of you could ever have."

Neither woman responded.

"Trish," he continued, a soft glisten in his eyes. "I know what you're feeling and I know you feel betrayed and I know you think I feel betrayed too. But don't let your emotions for someone be affected by my emotions. And Lita, I know how confused you are. I know what has to be racing through your head and I know you never meant to hurt me. I know you never knew the depths of my feelings for you and to be honest, I don't even think that I knew."

The young Hardy sighed. "It's been a long time and I think that's why I needed to be away, that I need to be in TNA. I need to be separate from what has brought me so much heart ache. I'm sorry about our baby, Sweetheart. But you know me and I'm a very religious man. And there has to be a reason. This whole scenario thing was so messed up. That was no way to bring our baby into this world. I know you never felt for me the same way but I did love you and even still do. And even if our baby was conceived in love, he wouldn't have been raised that way."

He shook his head. "I know this sounds heartless, Sweetheart, but I don't mean it that way. I just mean that I'm not upset anymore. I've accepted things as they are. Don't be angry with Trish. She's only acting on my behalf because she knows how much pain I was in over the summer. She knows what I went through and she vented it the only way she thought she could."

He glanced from one woman to the next, making sure he had their attention. "I know how close you two were and I can see it in your eyes how something is missing in both your lives. I can see that there's a lot missing in you, Lita. But just listen to me. Rekindle your friendship."

Both women just watched as Jeff released them both and disappeared down the corridor. Neither could react at first. Trish finally mustered the courage to turn her head and she gasped when her eyes met Lita's, the redhead's gaze already intense.

"Lita!" Edge called, racing to them and whisking the redhead away and to the side. "What the hell happened? What did that freak say to you? Are you ok? Did he hurt you? I was about ready to charge over there and beat the piss out of him."

"I'm fine," she responded shortly, in truth far from pleased with Edge's actions. She glanced around the tall blond man, her eyes on Trish and Chris, a most concerned and worried look on Chris's face. Unlike Edge, who just seemed to be so full of anger as of late.

Edge grabbed her hand, pulling on her and leading her down the corridor. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

Trish watched as Edge and Lita interacted.

Chris followed her eyes, watching as well and when they began to walk away, he turned his eyes back onto the woman at his side, his hand slipping into hers as he entwined their fingers. "Sweetie?"

Trish wrapped her fingers around his, squeezing his hand and then she closed her eyes, bowing her head.

He leaned down then, gathering her in his arms in a strong hug, his lips brushing along her ear as he nuzzled against her. "Shhh, Baby. Everything's fine."

"You aren't going to ask ..."

"It's not my business," he responded gently. "If you want to tell me, you will. In your own time. There is never ... NEVER ... pressure from me."

"You're so good to me," she mumbled against him, easing him back to look in his face, on those beautiful eyes. "You ... you're so good to me."

Chris's smile softened as he gazed adoringly on her face, his one hand reaching up to brush the blonde fibers away from her face, tucking them behind her ears so he could see her eyes most clearly. "I love you."

Tears slipped from her eyes. "It feels so good to hear you say that now."

"It feels good to say it."

Trish swallowed hard. "Chris we ... we haven't actually talked ... about ... about what happened on Wednesday."

"What's to talk about?" He asked, cocking his head with curious wonder.

"What's to talk about?" She only shook her head, walking away from him, knowing he'd follow her down the hall. Once inside his locker room, she turned to him, glad they were alone. "We have a lot to talk about."

"I don't understand," Chris said to her, watching as she walked further away from him to sit on the couch. He licked his lips, not moving closer to her. "I ... I don't understand." Then his eyes cleared and the most panged expression fell onto his face. "You regret it."

"No, Sweetie," she said, quickly, her eyes pleading to him. "No, I don't regret a moment." She patted the seat cushion at her side. "Come here, Sweetie. Sit with me."

He approached her nervously, unsure of what she would say and in truth, scared out of his mind of what she would say. He bit his lip, sitting next to her.

Trish sensed his nerves and in every way, wished to ease them. He really had nothing to be nervous about.

Chris's eyes widened when she crawled towards him, one hand outstretched and pressed into his chest. She pushed on him gently, crawling closer to him.

"Lie down," she whispered.

He obeyed, lying down onto his back and she carefully settled on top of him, lying heavily on his body, her hands on his face then playing with his hair. He shivered.

"Don't be nervous." She said, sweetly, her smile stretched beautifully across her face. "This isn't going to be anything bad. I just want to talk to you about Wednesday. I want to apologize if I was too forward and you weren't ready or even wanted to hear me say anything. But I just got so carried away in the moment and I couldn't resist it anymore."

Chris grazed his fingers over her brow, brushing away the hair from her eyes and then rested that hand on her back. "I ... I never was upset and I don't want you to apologize. I ... I just never expected you to say anything and I ... I wanted to say that to you for so long."

His words were cut off when her lips found his, and Trish kissed him heartily, letting him feel every ounce of emotion that dwelled within her. Breathless, she pulled back from him, gazing down into his hot heated icy blue eyes. "How long?" she panted onto his mouth and her eyes fluttered closed as he wrapped his lips around hers.

"Since our first kiss," he pledged then reinforced his words with another heart stopping kiss. Panting, he smiled against her mouth. "Hell, since I first saw you." Again, he pulled her mouth to his, his hands tangling in her hair to hold her close.

Seconds, minutes, Trish didn't know how long she kissed this man, only that she didn't want to stop. And when he finally pulled back for good, she whimpered, only wanting more of him. "Don't stop."

"Look at me."

She forced her eyes open, gazing lovingly down onto his face.

"I'm sorry you lost the title," he said, softly, his breath on his voice. "You deserve to be champ and you still should. If I knew that this would have happened, I would never have made the match."

"I'll worry about my title later," she said, a smile on her face. "Now I want to think about how much you love me."

Chris chuckled, snaking his arms around her torso, pulling her close. "Well we can talk about that but only if you talk about the sexy beast that I am."

Trish's smile brightened, her eyes flickering with mischief and affection. "You were a sexy beast tonight. I remember when I saw you in that open button down silk shirt and you had those shades on your eyes. I licked my lips and had to resist racing down to that ring, pouncing on you, tearing at your pants and then just having my way with you ... right there in the center of the ring." She reached down then, rubbing her hand down his body and to his tights, stroking his inner thigh and other more sensitive parts.

Chris growled at her, his throat quivering with delight at not only her words but her actions as well and the thought of so erotic an encounter.

"And I suppose, I have to admit," she slowly licked her lips, letting her eyes flutter closed as her lips brushed along his. "Seeing you with all those women in your office and them prancing around ... oooo, did I want to just rip every single one of them apart." She chuckled then, flicking her tongue at his bottom lip. "You know, and then have my way with you again."

"God, why didn't you," he moaned, his body racing with his need for her.

Trish shrugged casually, continuing her tease of the man beneath her. "Well that wasn't exactly proper now was it?" She traced her hand up his body, caressing his abs before sliding that tiny hand down the front of his tights.

He groaned, his arms tightening around her and he quickly sat up, tackling her so that she lay on her back. "I want you." He growled lustfully then crashed his lips to hers.

Trish sighed into his mouth, pleased that she so easily sparked such a lust within him. She wasn't ready to think about anything that happened that evening. She just wanted to focus on him, on them. He was such a wonderful distraction.

(I didn't mean to be a bitch ... thanks, read and review.)


	12. December 13, 2004

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin 

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

December 13, 2004

* * *

Chris Jericho raced down the arena corridor, his eyes a pleasant glow as he searched frantically. Which one was his locker room? He couldn't remember. Finally, recognizing his door, he burst inside. "Baby, did you see that?"

Trish gasped at the sudden burst entry and her eyes flew to the door.

"Baby," he sighed again, rushing to her side and he led her to the couch. When she sat, he dropped to his knees in front of her, her hands still clutched in his. "Sweetheart, did you hear?"

She shook her head, her face drawn in seriousness. "No, Chris, I'm sorry. What happened?"

"The title, Baby," he clarified.

"He gave it to you?" Trish asked quickly, her face pulling into a smile. "Bischoff gave you the belt. Oh my God, Chris, that's wonderfu ..."

"No, Baby," he replied, his face still wearing the smile. "It's even better. It's at that New Year's Revolution. Elimination Chamber. And yours truly is a participant."

Her face dropped.

Chris continued anyway, blathering on as if nothing were wrong. "Can you believe it, Baby? I get a shot. I get a chance and I'm gonna be champ. Me and Hunter are gonna be the only two to have braved this chamber three times and this time, it's my lucky strike, I can feel it."

Trish didn't respond.

"Come on, Babe," he coaxed, tugging on her to get an answer. "Isn't this fantastic? Can't you just picture me on that cold January night, coming back to our locker room with the World Heavyweight Championship strapped around my waist?"

"Chris, I ..."

"I knew you'd be happy for me," he answered quickly, leaning forward to kiss her mouth softly. "Oh Baby, you don't know what this chance means to me. I've been dying to hold that kind of gold again since I lost it to Hunter at Wrestlemania X8. I know it seems a long time to hold that kind of grudge, but that belt is mine and I know it. I've just never gotten the chance to prove myself. And the odds were always stacked against me in every other Elimination Chamber. Not this time. This time, Chris Jericho is coming out on top."

She only licked her lips, preparing herself to speak if he'd let her.

He didn't. "Oh, Baby, this is gonna be fantastic. Wait here. I'm going to go take a quick shower and then we can boogie."

Trish sighed, staring at his back as he raced into the shower stall.

* * *

Lita quickly slipped into Edge's locker room, closing the door as she swiftly moved to the opposite side. A look of fear washed over her face as she heard footsteps outside the door. She shot up a silent prayer. She'd be helpless if Snitsky cornered her here now.

The door burst open.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Edge, it's only you."

Edge's eyes narrowed as he eased the door closed, flicking the lock. He turned his impassioned eyes back to her.

Lita licked her lips, nervously backing into the lockers behind her. "What ... what's the matter?"

He didn't respond, only stepped a little closer.

"Edge, you're scaring me."

"Well, I'm angry," he responded, curtly, his voice laced in agitation.

"You're doing it again!" She yelled at him, stomping a foot in protest. "You're doing it again, Edge."

"Doing what?" he glared, his shoulders tensing with his fury.

"This," she answered, waving her hand at him. "This, you're getting angry and you're going to do it again. Are you drunk ... again?"

His eyes narrowed even more, mere slits as he peered at this infuriating woman.

She stepped up to him then, her cheek turned to him. "Are you going to strike me this time? Or just grab me hard or throw me into a wall. Or are you going to do what you did last time."

Edge looked away from her, turning his back as he stared at the opposite wall. "You said you forgave me."

"I did," Lita said. "I'm here with you now. But you've got that same look in your eye and frankly I half expect you to slap me."

"I never hit you." He clarified, his voice strong. "I never raised my hand to you."

"No, but you might as well have." She spat back. "Look at me, God damn you." She grabbed his arm and spun him, looking up to meet his eyes. Her eyes widened.

"This wasn't what you expected, was it?" he asked in a soft voice, his eyes, his lovely green eyes speaking volumes and not displaying a hint of the anger from before. "I was furious and drunk when I grabbed you the way I did and threw you on the bed all those years ago. I didn't ... I didn't know what I was doing. I never ... I never understood why you didn't press charges. I ..."

Lita cocked her head at him, her eyes searching his for nothing but truth. He offered it completely.

He shook his head, bowing so he couldn't see her. God, he couldn't look at her. "I forced myself on you. I know that much. But I ... I can't remember it. And we ... we always hated each other so passionately. You were still with Matt and Jeff and you guys were always fighting with me and Christian. And I remember that night ... during that match when I speared you and you hit your head on the ladder. God, I felt like shit."

She reached out then, cupping his cheek in her smaller hand and she raised his gaze to hers.

"I couldn't believe I actually hurt you," he said even softer, his deep eyes locked intensely on hers. "I mean all the other times I never really hurt you. But then ... Then I hurt you and I wanted to die. I have a secret, Lita, a secret you don't know."

"What are you talking about?"

"I've been in love with you for years," he admitted, his gaze unwavering though he didn't catch the sudden inner wall she raised at those words. He licked his lips, his one hand shaking as he reached up to touch her pretty face. "And it broke my heart when I saw you concussed and hurting all because of me. I drank myself stupid that night and I barely remember it. I know I raped you and I ... I still don't ..."

"You never raped me, Edge," Lita said to him, her eyes gleaming at his words but her heart couldn't help but tug and ache at his guilt. "Don't you think that if I felt that way, I'd have pressed charges?"

"I didn't even give you a chance to say no. I just tossed you down and I remember the look in your eyes. It was this fearful look like you didn't know what I was going to do. And I don't remember from then on in. I just remember waking up with the biggest headache and I was naked and so were you. But I could hear you. Your back to me, and I could hear you crying. Then I ... I knew what I did and I had to leave. I ran."

"Do you want to know why I was crying that morning?" Lita asked him gently. She didn't wait for a response, just continued anyway. "I was crying because I was attracted to you for so long and in that drunken stupor ... that wasn't the way I wanted to have you in my arms. I wanted you to be really willing and not just because you were too drunk to remember. I knew that no matter what I felt or we felt that night, it wouldn't matter in the morning because you wouldn't remember."

"God, I wish I knew," he breathed, cupping her face in his hands.

"That's not all," she continued warily. "I was still with Matt at the time and I loved him. I felt so guilty ... feeling the way I did with you and knowing I was tied to another man. I was so confused and I didn't know what to do. And then you ran off and didn't speak to me for months, I figured you regretted it."

Lita shook her head, a small smile on her face. "And then Matt just broke my heart. After years and just ... poof ... it was gone."

"But ..." his eyes remained intense, as always, and he gazed down into her hazel depths. "But you said that you will always love Matt Hardy."

"Matt ..." she laughed almost painful as she tried to force the smile. "Matt's the blindest man I've ever known. He thinks that just because he saves me from Kane that I'm gonna fall back into his arms."

"You mean ..."

"I don't love him ... at least not anymore," Lita clarified. "He served his purpose. He tried to keep me away from Kane."

"But you ... you married him and had se ... you didn't even sound disgusted when you mentioned him tonight."

"Kane doesn't repulse me." She admitted. "Despite what he appears, he's been nothing but sweet. He doesn't care about physicality and all her wanted was that baby, even though it wasn't his but he didn't need to know that. I just hope he doesn't think I'm gonna give in for another one."

"I ..." his brow furrowed. "I don't understand."

Lita only sighed, her head bowed as she spoke very softly. "I don't know what I want anymore, Edge. I'm so confused. My heart has been broken and I thought for the longest time that maybe I was healed. But I ... I just jumped from one man to the next, scared of what would happen and ..."

He cupped her head, tilting her gaze up to his as he leaned towards her. "Don't move past me, Lita. Trust me. When's Kane coming back?"

She didn't resist as he pressed closer to her, his body pressed flush to hers. "He'll be back in January. And I don't know when Matt will. I don't hate Kane though, I can't. He's done a lot for me and protected me. Edge ..." she gazed up hopelessly into his eyes. "Edge, what do I do?"

Edge walked slowly with her, pinning her against the wall and his eyes darkened. "Look in my eyes." He brushed his fingers along her brow then across her cheek. "Open your heart again, Lita. Open it to me. I'll treat you like I should have all those years ago. I'll show you what it means to love. Just let me. Let me love you."

She didn't have time to respond before his lips captured hers.

* * *

Trish hadn't spoken since they left the arena and in truth, Chris was worried. She was never this quiet. He squeezed her hand a little tighter, leading her up the second flight of stairs and to their hotel room. Once to the door, he easily swiped the key card and stepped inside.

She offered him her duffel bag and he took them both, as always and placed them on the floor in front of the dresser. She ignored him, basically, and she stepped to the large queen size bed, turning down the comforter before sitting down.

Chris watched her with curious eyes as she untied her shoes and kicked them off. She offered no words, no communication as she lay down on the bed, her eyes closing as she sighed, lounging on her back.

She didn't react when the bed sank at her side and she shied away from him a moment when she felt his touch on her arm. It was gone then and a wave of guilt swept over her. "I'm sorry, Chris. I just wasn't expecting it." She opened her eyes

Chris kept his head bowed, a somewhat sadden look on his face. "No, it's ok." He said, quietly. "I ... I was just worried, that's all."

Trish reached out to him, hooking a finger under his chin to tilt his head up. She leaned towards him, her eyes fluttering closed as their lips met in a soft sensual kiss. Deep and tender, she kissed him until the breath drained from his body and no other thoughts but of her remained.

When she pulled away, he licked his lips, his eyes still closed as he tried desperately to regain his breath. "You take my breath away," he admitted in a husky voice.

She smiled, easily at him, her one hand raking through the back of his head to clutch at his hair. She tilted his head, pulling him back to her as she settled on the bed. She pulled him closer, her eyes still flickering with darkened passion. Angling his head perfectly, she pulled him the final distance, her lips meeting his.

Chris easily followed her lead, settling on top of her as they kissed. His hands roamed the sides of her body before one eventually rested on her thigh. He stroked and caressed, knowing how much she loved when he touched her there. He moaned as their tongues clashed and tangled, and he adored the way her body reacted to him.

Trish trembled, already spellbound by the feel of this wonderful man. He was so good at everything he did and he so easily made her forget about all the troubles that raced through her mind. But then he suddenly stopped.

Chris licked his lips as he pulled back from her, his eyes focused intensely on her face. "As much as I love just kissing you ... not this time."

A look of hurt flashed across her face. "I ... I don't understand."

He placed his hands to either side of her face. "I'm not objecting. Believe me, and I have full plans of kissing you until I'm exhausted but ..." he sighed. "I've been worried about you for far too long and I can't take it anymore."

"Chris."

"No," he objected. "You have to tell me. Because my heart is just ripping at the seams because I don't know what's going on. And you just keep sinking into this pit of despair and even though you don't say anything, I can see it in your eyes. Tell me. Let me do something."

"You were," Trish whimpered, pulling on his head again. "Don't stop."

Chris resisted her as she tugged on him. "No." That utterance was the hardest thing he ever had to say and from the instant look that crossed her face, he regretted it.

"You don't ..."

"No," he interrupted her and leaned down to give her a heart racing kiss. "I want to kiss you and make love to you. But I don't want to just do that. It's been so long since we talked, Trish. I want to talk."

"Men never want to talk."

"Well, I'm not most men."

Trish paused at his words, her eyes locked on his face. "Chris, I can't tell you yet. I'm scared. I ..."

"Don't be afraid of me," he said softly, leaning down to press his forehead to hers. "We've been through so much and we've finally gotten to the point where we should have been a year ago at this time. I love you and you love me and we're finally together and there is nothing to be afraid of anymore."

"You don't understand." She responded, her voice laced with sadness. "You don't understand, Chris. It's not that simple."

"Then help me understand," he breathed onto her lips. "Help me be here for you."

She shook her head, tears pricking from her eyes. "I'm so confused, Chris and I don't know what to do."

"Then tell me," he pleaded. "Tell me so I can help you. We can do this together now, Trish. You're not alone anymore."

"But that's the thing," she argued. "I don't know what to say. I don't ... I don't ... I'm not ready to tell you yet."

Chris sighed, his eyes closing as he held her, caressed her and did his best to make her feel safe. "I'm patient, Baby, but you have to tell me eventually or else the worry will kill me."

Trish smiled at his words, her hands on his face as she gazed into his eyes. He was still so marvelously close. "I love you. I love you so much, Chris."

"I love you too," he replied, sealing their words with a gentle tender kiss before changing the direction of the conversation. "I know your birthday is this weekend, Baby, and I have a Christmas dinner with my family that day. But I'm going to call you and say all the sweetest things to you over the phone and make sure you know just how damn much I love you on your special day."

"Chris, you don't have to." She responded.

"Of course I do," he quickly said, his eyes bright with affection. "It's my girl's big day and it's bad enough I can't be there for you. You can always come to my family party with me."

But Trish quickly shook her head. "No, I can't do that. Plus my parents wanted to take me out that night anyway and I haven't seen my sister in a long time."

"Ok," he answered then gave her a soft kiss on the mouth. "But on Monday you can expect me on your front doorstep. And since we have off until after Christmas, I'm going to spend the whole week with you whether you want me there or not."

She managed a tiny smile for him, that smile oozing with warmth and affection. "Of course I want you there. You'll even spend Christmas day with me?"

"Uh huh," he nodded, his nose brushing against hers with the gesture. "I have your presents at home and I'll bring all my presents for you with me. I'll give you your birthday gifts next week and then we can put all the presents under the tree."

Trish sniffed, her arms draping around his neck as she hugged him, a beautiful smile on her face. "No man has ever wanted to spend time like that with me before."

"Trish, I told you already. I'm not every other man."

"I ... I know," she stammered. "I ... I'm just not used to this."

"Well, get used to it." He said lightly, his lips brushing hers in a tender display of affection. "Because we're going to be together all week. And I'm not once letting you go that entire time. And maybe, sometime next week, you'll tell me about everything that's been bothering you."

Trish swallowed hard, her heart fluttering at the kindness of this man. "And you'll hold me?"

"Forever."

She licked her lips. "And we'll sleep together and I'll be in your arms. And then we can wake up and not have to run to go anywhere but just be together and ..."

"Yes, Baby," he responded with a sweet smile. "All of that. And we'll be together. And we can even spend all of one day in bed. We'll just get up to eat and then we can return to bed, just laying there ... our arms around each other." He nuzzled her again. "Maybe I'll just whisper sweet nothings in your ear. Or we can see how many times we can make love until I pass out."

Trish yanked him down to her, her arms tightening around him as she hugged him for everything she could. "Oh God, Chris, that sounds wonderful. Can we start now? Make love to me now."

"Oh, Baby," he sighed against her, pressing his body closer as he placed a soft kiss on her ear. "I'm way ahead of you." His lips found that perfect spot on her throat, his hands resuming their caress. If she wouldn't tell him of her pain, if she wouldn't let him help her that way, he'd take away her pain in another way. She would feel the most intense and love filled pleasure she had ever known. "I love you," he mumbled against her throat as he kissed a hot trail up and over her jaw before sealing their lips in a mind altering kiss.

(You can expect an update next Monday and one for Christmas Day. Read, review, tell me what you think.)


	13. December 20, 2004

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

December 20, 2004

Chris Jericho smiled brightly, his grin from ear to ear as he put his car into park in the driveway of the woman he loved. Pulling a santa hat onto his head, he jumped out of the car, charging to the trunk to grab both his over night bag and a large red cloth bag, a few things on the bottom; they were gifts for her.

Slamming the trunk shut, he charged up the front steps to ring her door bell, that smile still plastered on his face. God, did he miss her so much. He waited quite impatiently as his teeth chattered and he expelled a breath, watching it crystallize in the air and he licked his frozen chapped lips. "Come on, Baby," he whispered, bouncing slightly and he wiggled his toes in his boots, willing the heat to return to them. It really was cold outside.

Jeez, if he knew she'd take this long, he'd have put his gloves on and zippered his coat. His hands were freezing but he didn't want to place anything on the ground. "Trish," he called, knocking on the door and then hissed as that brunt physical action reddened his knuckles.

After some clicking and a few flicks, the front door opened. Trish stood there, a holiday sweatshirt and light faded jeans, her hair tied into a ponytail and her face devoid of makeup. "Chris? What are you doing ..."

"It's cold, Baby," he interrupted her. "Can you invite me in first?"

"Oh my God, Chris," she breathed quickly, reaching for him and pulling him into the house. "I'm so sorry. Come in here." She closed the door, pushing the duffel bag and red clothed bag out of his arms before taking his hands in hers. "I didn't realize you were that cold." She leaned down, exhaling a few hot breaths onto his reddened exposed hands.

Chris's smile softened and he pulled his hands away from her. "Honey, my hands are too cold. Don't ... don't ..."

"Shhhh," she hushed, reaching for his hands again and she offered him the most beautiful smile as she pulled him close, placing his hands on her hips. She then lifted just the bottom of her shirt and placed it over his hands.

"Trish!"

But before he could pull his hands away, she placed her hands over his. "Warm them up. I'm nice and warm for a change."

He smiled again, letting his hands rest on her hips. "Sweetheart, I told you once that I would never touch you with cold hands." He pulled his hands back and removed his coat, averting his eyes from her to hang that coat on a free hook to the side. "And frankly, I have no intention of starting now. You know, I was driving this whole way here and thought that .... hmmphuhmph."

His words were cut off into a mumble when her mouth suddenly covered his, her kiss deep and penetrating, passionate and lusty as she devoured him. Her hands raked roughly through his hair and then just as suddenly, she pulled back from him. Her brow furrowed.

Chris laughed at her. "What? You don't like?"

Trish cocked her head, her eyes locked on his face. "I ... I didn't realize you had your beard until I kissed you."

He slowly nodded. "I see how it is. So used to the plain old me, you never expected something different. It's just so damned cold and frankly the beard and mustache keep me warm. And it's not that long. I'm keeping it trimmed." He sighed. "I know how much you like me clean shaven but ..."

She reached up, placing her hand over his mouth to silence him. She smiled gently, her eyes dancing lovingly as she gazed up into his crystal blue. "Actually ... I ... I kinda like it."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she answered. "It's kinda scruffy and scratchy but still ... it's nice."

"Nice? That's it? My kisses are just nice?"

She laughed, grabbing his hand and she led him into the house. "Your kisses are phenomenal but that's not the point."

"The gifts," he said quickly and he pulled his hand from hers.

She watched as he raced back into the foyer and swooped up that big red bag. He ran back to her side. She took his hand again. "What's all this?"

"Santa," he answered, pointing to the hat still on his head. "And I have your Christmas presents I want to put under the tree. Where's your tree?"

"It's this way," she said with a grin, leading him into the living room and the lovely tree erected in the center. She watched with adoring eyes as he placed the gifts around the tree.

"Trishy, sweetie, who was that at the door?"

Chris slowly turned his head at the voice, his eyes wide as they met those of an elderly calm woman. His eyes soon scanned a little further and he just noticed the man lounging in the arm chair, watching him carefully. He jumped, startled.

Trish giggled. "Chris, these are my parents. Mom ... Dad ... this is Chris."

Chris gulped.

"Oh, so this is Chris," her mother chirped, the woman approaching him in a rush of glee. "Let me take a good look at you."

Chris stood tall as her mother stood in front of him, inspecting every inch, her eyes narrowed to closely scan every single part. He licked his lips, smiling best he could, though his heart pounded heavily in his chest. He wasn't ready for this, wasn't expecting her parents.

Trish's mother shook her head. "He really is a mangy thing, isn't he."

"Mom," Trish scolded, gently, walking to stand at Chris's side and she slipped an arm around his waist, the other reaching up to touch his cheek. "He's usually clean shaven but I kinda like the beard."

"There are so many nice gentleman you never dated because they had beards and now all of a sudden you don't mind them?"

"Anna," her father sighed. "Leave the boy alone. He's groomed, he's clean, he has a pile of gifts and is wearing a santa hat. Plus, I don't think he needs this run down."

Jericho licked his lips then stuck out his hand. "Hi, Mrs. Stratus. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Anna gave him one more look over, head to toe before she nodded. "Fine. I _suppose_ he has my approval."

Trish giggled. "Mom, isn't it supposed to be Dad that's so demanding of boys."

"Your father doesn't seem to care so much anymore," Anna said. "Right, John?"

John Stratus only shook his head. "Now that's not true, Sweetheart and you know it. I care just as much as you about my little pumpkin. I just don't like to frighten her boyfriends away."

Chris leaned close to Trish, whispering in her ear. "Sweetie, why didn't you tell me on Saturday when I called that your folks would be here."

"I didn't know," the little blonde answered just as softly. "I told them you were coming by for the week and they just stopped by."

John chuckled. "Trish wasn't expecting us either. We decided to surprise our little girl today."

Chris smiled, warily. "Ah, I see." Then his eyes perked. "Oh my God, that reminds me. I have to go to the store. I have to pick up your birthday present."

"You didn't get it yet?" She asked, a tinge of hurt in her voice.

"No, I did." He clarified. "But they had to order it and it was supposed to come in today. I have to go get it."

"Oh, I'm so excited to see what it is," Anna exclaimed. "Why don't you go with him, John, and keep him company?"

John glanced to the young man beside his daughter. "Only if he doesn't mind. I don't want to intrude ..." his voice lowered slightly. "Please, kid. I don't wanna stay here while they gush over how pretty you are or something."

Jericho laughed. "Yeah, I guess I wouldn't wanna be here for that one." He signaled to the door. "Let's go, Pops." He gasped when the words slipped from his lips and he looked nervously to the older gentleman in the room.

John only laughed, a deep hearty laugh. "That's ok, Son. Hmm ... Pops. I kinda like it."

Chris relaxed, his smile brightening and beaming. "Ok, so off we go then. Maybe we can grab something to eat too, cuz I'm starved."

"Sounds good," John said, "But only if I treat."

"Deal," Jericho answered then turned to Trish. "We're gonna head out now, ok Baby?"

"Ok," Trish said softly, her eyes lovingly meeting his and she reached up to pull the Santa hat from his head. "Kiss me goodbye?"

"Of course," he sighed, his smile so soft as he leaned down to place his lips on hers, kissing her as sweetly as he could manage. When he pulled back, he gazed into her eyes, then pursed his lips to give her one more soft kiss.

Trish reached up as the kiss finished, her hand cupping his scruffy cheek, her thumb caressing him. "Bye, Sweetie."

"Bye, Baby." He responded then walked to the door and as he and her father walked out, he called back before shutting the door. "I love you."

"I love you too," she answered, softly, even though he couldn't hear her. She glanced to the side as her mother tugged on her arm. "Do you like him, Mom?"

"He's darling." Anna answered, her voice soft and maternal. "He seems wonderful. And you seem to really like him and that's what counts."

"I do like him, Mom." Trish said. "I more than like him. I know we were rough to start and we had a lot of obstacles and we still do. But I love him."

"That's fantastic." Anna said. "But Trishy, you better nab him quick. You're almost thirty and not married."

"Mom."

"I'm serious, Trish," the older woman stated in deathly stern tone. "I'm very serious. You really need to decide to settle down and I wasn't expecting you to not be married at this time in your life. What about children? What about settling down? Think about all that, Trish."

"I have," Trish responded, a slight sadness to her voice. "And as much as I love Chris, I don't know if we're right like that. We've never talked about it. I don't know if he wants kids or even wants to get married. We haven't discussed that. We've just acknowledged that we love each other. There's no rush."

"That's what you think," Anna said. "Thirty, sweetheart. Thirty. You better grab him before you start to look your age and he leaves you for some younger woman."

"That's not like Chris."

"Maybe not." Anna said, her head cocked to eye her daughter worriedly. "But if you think that you're going to keep that man on conversation alone, you've got another thing coming. Physicality is very important in a relationship and you better be sure you're attractive for him. Why aren't you wearing any makeup now when you answered the door?"

"I forgot to put it on." Trish responded, truthfully. "I was in such a rush to get the place ready for him. I didn't think of it. Anyway, Chris always says that doesn't matter to him. And anyway, looks shouldn't matter."

"I'm sorry, Sweetie." Her mother apologized. "Nothing against you sweetheart, but you know you're a gorgeous woman and if you think that a man is not interested in your looks, you're severely mistaken."

Trish bowed her head. "Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right, Mom. I ... I guess I should really try to sweep him away tonight."

Anna nodded. "Yes, Sweetie. I'm sure you have some sexy lingerie upstairs and pumps. Really do yourself up and make a very good impression. And whatever he wants, let him have. You really must keep this one, Trish. This one is a keeper."

Trish nodded silently.

* * *

Chris laughed, his eyes agleam as he met the eyes of the older man that sat across from him. "That's rich, Pops."

John chuckled, pushing his plate to the side. "I have stories galore, kid. But in all seriousness now..."

Jericho gulped. "I kinda figured this was coming."

"No need to be worried," John calmed with a gentle smile. "This isn't gonna be that hard, kid. I'm not like every other dad that tears apart every single detail about you. I'm only interested in a few things. Number one: Are you Christian?"

Jericho licked his lips. "I was raised in a Christian home, if that's what you mean. I haven't been to a service or anything in years."

"But you believe?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good," John responded with a quick nod. "I can't have one of those non-believer heathens with my little girl."

Chris laughed nervously.

"Don't be so nervous," John said. "It's fine. Now number two: What did you buy my little girl at that store?"

Chris placed his hand over the breast of his leather coat, feeling the long box stored in the inside pocket. "Why? It's just a gift for her."

"Because I want to know," John said with a stern glance. "You have to understand that she's my baby girl and I want to make sure you have good intentions."

The young blond man sighed, reaching into his inner coat pocket and he pulled out the long jewelry box. Reluctant, almost nervous, Chris handed the box to the man across the table.

John took the box, holding and inspecting it before his eyes met Chris's. Waiting only a beat, he turned his attention to the box and slowly opened it.

Chris bowed his head.

"Chris?"

"You don't think she's going to like this, do you?" Jericho asked in a soft voice. "I know it may seem silly but I saw that exact necklace in a dream and I pictured her wearing it and me giving it to her and when I saw the diamond drape I just had to buy it."

John didn't respond for a few moments, simply looked at the sparkling diamond drape before closing the box and handing it back to Chris. "You certainly must be serious to by her something like that."

"I'm very serious about her, Pops." Jericho said, his heart in his eyes. "She means everything to me and that's I want to show her just how I feel. And after dreaming about giving that exact necklace to her and then finding it ... I knew it was a sign."

John nodded, watching silently as Chris tucked the box away, placing a hand over the breast of his coat. The older man licked his lips. "Ok, Chris. Whether you want it or not, I'm giving my approval. I want you in this family and frankly, you're the best thing my little girl ever brought home."

Chris smiled.

* * *

John Stratus stepped out of the car, pausing as he saw his wife standing on the door step to his daughter's home. "What is it, Anna?"

"We're leaving," Anna called, bustling down the steps and to their car. "Trish is inside and she wants to be alone with him. We'll see them on Christmas since they're coming for supper."

"Oh, ok," John answered then turned to Chris, eyeing the blond man with an intense scrutiny. "You better do right by my little girl."

Chris raised two fingers, a happy smile on his face. "Scouts honor."

John patted the younger man on the back, laughing heartily as he walked to the car.

Jericho readjusted his coat, making sure the necklace box was still in place. He walked slowly inside, but when looking around, he couldn't find her. "Trish!"

"I'm upstairs, Baby," she called, her voice laced in deep seduction. "Come on up."

He took her necklace from his coat pocket and placed it under the tree, inspecting the immediate area to make sure everything was in order. "No, you come down here. I want to give you your gift."

"Nuh uh, Big boy," she called back to him, her tone dripping with desire. "I want you up here ... now."

Chris could barely contain his groan of excitement at the sound of her voice and he quickly tossed off his coat then charged up the stairs. "Here comes your little Lionheart."

He bounded up those stairs, the biggest grin on his face and oh how he anticipated this evening. His mouth had been watering the whole week, he'd dreamt of her, envisioned her the entire time they were apart. And it wasn't only sexual. He envisioned them holding hands at the mall, cuddling next to a fire, eating supper every night. He just pictured them together.

God, how he wanted to see her. Turning the final corner into their bedroom, he stopped short, his hands dropping to his side as his jaw gaped. His eyes widened, his body suddenly drained of all energy. She was a goddess.

Trish stood in the bedroom, her hair down and soft and her makeup perfected.

"Trish, is ..." he licked his lips. "Is that ... that the ..._ the_ lingerie from ..."

"From Lita's wedding?" she finished for him, the most seductive tinge in her voice. "Lace, the sheer coat, the thigh highs, the heels, the works. All for you, Baby."

Jericho's eyes scanned her luscious body, a little trace of drool seeping out the corner of his mouth. He licked his lips, his body shuddering with his sudden want. "All for me?"

"For you," she repeated, her hips swaying slightly as she stepped closer to him. "I don't want the presents now. I want to do them all together. Now ... I want you."

"You want me?" He stepped even closer to her, his eyes focused intensely on her breasts and he reached up to wipe away that drool with the back of his hand.

"I want you," Trish repeated for him, stepping even closer to him, her chest thrust up into his face. "And I want you to have your way with me. I want you to be happy and I want you to use me ... to make you happy."

Chris growled, his body sagging and his pants were suddenly incredibly too tight. "God, I've wanted you so bad this whole week. You ... you have no idea, Baby."

"Well, I'm here for you," she cooed, reaching up to scrape a single nail down the scruffy side of his jaw.

"Do you know what I want?"

"What's that?"

He growled as she continued to caress him, stepping even closer so one hand rested on his chest, the other continuing to stroke his face and comb through his hair. "I ... I ..."

Trish smiled, her eyes gleaming with want.

"I want you now." He moaned. "And I want to spend all day tomorrow in bed ... in your arms."

"Mmmm," she hummed, draping her arms over his neck as she hung lightly on him. "That's sounds wondrous."

Chris smiled, his usual goofy quirky smile. "Not necessarily in bed. We can wake up ... then make love ... go to the shower ... make love ..."

Trish chuckled, her voice deep and throaty. "Sounds like you have the entire thing planned."

"Then we can go downstairs and have some breakfast," he continued without hesitation. "Then curl up on the couch together ... make love ... go to the hot tub ..." he trailed his hands up then down her back, craning his neck slightly to bury his face in her hair. "Make love ..."

"I think I can see where this is going." Trish teased him, wiggling her hips against his. "Will ... _he_ ... my little lionheart ..."

"Oh, he'll be directly involved." Jericho said. "So tell me, Darling ... what do you want?"

"I want what you want." She answered, her eyes locked on his before lifting up slightly, her mouth covering his for a deep passionate kiss.

Chris returned her embrace, his arms banding swiftly around her to pull her even closer. She wanted him and he wanted her. She wanted him in the worst way, he knew it. He knew it because of the way she moved against him, the way she grinded her hips against his, the way she clutched at his hair.

Trish sighed into his mouth, moaning as he trailed his lips across her jaw and to her neck. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, pulling him closer. She had to please him. She had to please him in everyway. She had to please him physically, the only way she could please a man.


	14. Christmas

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

Christmas Day

Chris Jericho put the car into park outside the large and seemingly packed house. He turned off the car then turned to the right, his one arm over the seat so he could see her. "Ok, Baby. We're here and ... you look nervous. Or upset or something"

Trish quickly shook her head. "Not upset. Just ... nervous ... well, not really. You know."

He chuckled, leaning over to press a quick kiss on her lips. Still laughing to himself, he got out of the car. Walking around the car, he slowed, slightly worried when she didn't move. He approached her door, opening it and stepping to her.

She unfastened her seatbelt, but didn't move out of the car.

"Hey now," he hushed softly at her, reaching out to rest his hands on her lap. "Everything will be just fine."

She sighed.

"None of that," he said then smiled ever so gently. "Kiss me, it'll make you feel better." He leaned toward her then, his mouth covering hers.

Trish sighed, his lips so soft and smooth, his hot moist tongue slipped into her mouth and she moaned, reaching one hand to rest on his still beard covered cheek. She kissed him a long few moments.

"Hey," someone called from the front porch. "You gonna release that lip lock on my cousin so I can give her a hug?"

Trish smiled when Chris pulled away from her. "Will." She slipped out of the car and under Chris's arms as she charged at the other man.

Will, a tall man with brown wavy hair opened his arms for his cousin, a huge grin on his face. "There's my favorite cousin."

"Will!" she called, ecstatic as she threw herself into her cousin's arms.

"Hey, everyone," Will yelled. "Trish is here. And it looks like she dragged some poor guy with her."

Chris chuckled, pleased at Trish's happiness and he walked to his trunk, grabbing the few bags of presents before heading towards the house.

Will released the little blonde woman, extending a hand towards the other man. "Hi, I'm Will."

"I'm Chris," Jericho said and he shifted the bags around so he could take the man's hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Let's go inside." Will said in response. "John has told us a lot about you."

"Nothing bad I hope," Chris chuckled.

"Not at all." Will answered then wrapped his arm around Trish. "Come on, Sweetie. Jill has been dying to see you again."

* * *

Trish quietly sipped her drink, her eyes on Chris as he laughed with her two cousins. She savored the taste of the drink in her mouth then licked her lips.

"Trishy?"

The little blonde looked to her right at the voice. It was her mother.

Anna smiled. "Hi, Sweetheart. I've just been so busy bustling around and getting everything ready and cooking and making sure everyone is happy. Is Chris happy? Did you bring him anything to eat? Does he need another drink?"

"He ... he hasn't said anything."

"Well go check, Honey." Anna pushed. "Make sure he feels at home. Did you two have a nice week? Did you two do anything nice? I hope you made him happy. What did he give you for your birthday?"

"I don't know," she answered. "He didn't give it to me yet. He said he wanted to wait till Christmas. And he brought it here for everyone."

"Oh, that's wonderful." Anna cooed, clapping her hands momentarily in her excitement. "I simply can't wait for what it is. Maybe you did everything right and it's an engagement ring."

"Mom!"

Anna and Trish looked to the kitchen, Trish's baby sister standing in the doorway. "Mom, Aunt T wants you."

Anna quickly whisked into the kitchen.

Her sister waited for a moment and then walked up to Trish. "Was Mom telling you all that please your man shit again."

Trish ducked her head, chuckling softly.

"Don't listen to her," the sister said, a serious look in her eyes. "Mom is just old fashioned. And I was talking to Chris earlier. Trish, Sweetie, he is not the kinda guy who would appreciate that. I don't even think he realizes or expects what you're doing. Don't be like Mom. You hear me ... don't."

"But ..."

"No buts," the younger woman said. "Don't be like that. It's not what most men want now a days. There are some. But Chris ... he's not one of them."

Trish shook her head again, her eyes sorrowed and somewhat lost. "All man like to be treated that way, like they're kings. Chris calls himself the king of the world. He thinks everything revolves around him and I don't mind that. I don't mind doing everything he wants and I know he likes that kind of treatment. So don't try telling me how to please my man, Jill."

Jill turned her eyes onto Chris as he laughed joyously then made some comment or another, getting a laugh from the group himself. "You know, Sweetie. I don't think you know the kind of man you have."

"You know nothing," Trish spat then turned away, walking into the kitchen.

* * *

Chris followed the rest of the family into the dining room, standing next to Trish and he smiled down at her when she offered him a warm grin. His finger brushed playfully along her chin and he leaned down as if no one were witness and placed a soft tender kiss on her mouth.

Trish kissed him one last time then turned her attention to her father.

John cleared his throat and at that moment, everyone's attention focused on him. "I want to thank everyone for coming here on this wonderful Christmas day. It's so nice to have all the family together on Christmas and I thank God that we have this opportunity. Lord, we thank you for bringing us together."

Chris watched as everyone bowed their heads and he did the same, crossing his arms in front of him, his hands clasped in prayer.

John bowed his head. "We are very grateful for all you have given us and we pray for your guidance and for all those other families celebrating the birth of our Lord, Jesus Christ. Bless us and this food we eat. May we all strive to be as giving as you and be deserving to enter your kingdom in the next life. Amen."

"Amen." Everyone repeated.

Jericho lifted his head. "Amen." He smiled when Trish grabbed his hand and led him to the table. His eyes lingered on John for a moment and a part of him wondered why the older man seemed to still be in prayer.

* * *

"Do you want something else to eat, Hun?" Trish asked the man next to her.

"No thanks, Baby." Chris answered her then patted his stomach. "I am packed to the max. Nothing else is getting in here tonight."

Trish smiled sweetly at him, standing from the table to grab his plate then hers and take them into the kitchen.

Chris stood as well, picking up both their salad dishes and glasses then following her into the kitchen.

She jumped as they nearly bumped into each other. "Oh no, Sweetie. Here. I've got that."

"No, no," he interrupted her. "I've got it." He wouldn't let her take the dishes from him and instead walked them to the sink himself.

"Chris!"

He turned at the voice, glancing over his shoulder as he heard someone call him. "Hi, Anna." He turned the water on, making sure it was hot before reaching for a sponge.

"No no," she scolded quickly, racing to the sink to take the sponge from him. "Don't do that. That's not your job. Trishy! Come in here!"

Trish bustled back into the kitchen, her arms filled with dishes. Her eyes widened. "Chris, what are you doing?"

"Just helping with the dishes," Chris answered softly, a sweet smile on his face. "I figure it's the least I could do since you made such a wonderful meal."

"Don't be so ridiculous," Anna said. "This isn't your place. Go on back into the den with the boys. Leave this to us girls. Right, Trish?"

Trish nodded, her eyes meeting his for a moment before she looked away and turned her attention back to the dishes.

Chris eyed her worriedly but he had been dismissed and was currently being ignored. A strange sinking feeling curdled in his stomach but he only turned away and walked from the room. "John?"

The older man looked towards Chris. "Hey there, kid."

"Can I talk to you?" Chris asked.

The smile fell from the older man's face. "Let's go out to the garage."

Chris could barely feel the cold as questions raced through his mind. He knew there'd been something different about Trish lately and something about what Anna had just said seemed to strike him wrong. Actually, this last week seemed to strike him wrong. Something about Trish and he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was.

But it hit him when all of a sudden, she stopped ... receiving pleasure. Not that he didn't try, he did. But she seemed ... distracted and he couldn't ... finish her. And everytime he would try, she would brush it off, focus on his pleasure and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. It hurt him that he couldn't bring her to that level of ecstasy. Was there something wrong with him? Was she not attracted to him anymore?

"You seem ... bothered."

"I am," Chris answered the older man with a sigh. "Well, actually, I'm really curious about one thing. You seem so new age and liberal and free thinking but then you're so religious. If I'm not intruding you know, I was just curious."

"Not intruding," John responded quickly. "And I'm not at all ashamed of anything. When I was a young man, I was so free thinking and not very religious. Sex before marriage, drugs on the weekends, rock and roll, hitting the clubs, real party animal. I found the right girl for me. She loved me and she did whatever I wanted. It wasn't until years later that I realized how old fashioned Anna was and frankly, I'm not _that _thrilled about it. But anyway ..."

Jericho almost questioned him but since John continued, he kept quiet.

"Trishy's my first born, you know," John said with a beaming smile. "And damn, did I love her. She was such a pretty baby. But then ... well ..." he sighed. "God, it hurts to still think about it."

"About what?"

John didn't respond at first, but just licked his lips, stilling his heart. "She was my world. And then I'll never forget it. Trishy got sick. My little girl. She was only 15 months and my wife and I were worried sick about her. We took her to the hospital, she was burning up, throwing up. God, I ... I was so scared. An hour after we arrived, there was this big problem and all this rush for quarantine."

"My God, what happened?"

"My little baby had scarlet fever." John said with sorrow in his voice. "She was so young and just so sick. The doctor's didn't think she'd live through the night. My world stopped. Everything I ever knew just ripped from my heart. My little girl. My precious baby." He cleared his throat, willing the tears to stay back. "I mean obviously she lived and she's fine. But that night ... I ... I wandered into the hospital chapel and let's just say, me and God had a meeting of minds. I know he saved my little girl. I know it. I asked him to and my baby is alive today because of God. The doctor's didn't do jack for her but I ... I know she wasn't meant to die. She was meant to live and to have a family and to be important and to make a difference."

John took a few steps closer to Chris, tears in his eyes as he looked at the younger man. "Chris, she was meant to be with you. She's alive today because she's meant for you. I can feel it."

Chris only shook his head with a sigh. "Oh John, I ... I'm sorry. I didn't know."

John waved a hand at the younger man. "It's nothing to be sorry for. This happened to her. Chris ... I want to tell you something very important. I want you to promise me something."

"Of course, anything."

"You love my daughter, right?"

"With all my heart," Chris pledged without hesitation.

"Marry her, Chris."

The young blond's eyes widened, taken off guard by that sudden comment. "What?"

"I'm not going to be around forever," John said. "I haven't told the family yet ... but I'm not a well man. Now I don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon. But I want my little girl happy and taken care of. I want to know she has a man in her life that's not going to hurt her."

The older man shook his head. "I've met many of her other boyfriends and they were all outright awful. But not you. I like you, kid. I want you in this family. And one day, you're going to be the man of this family."

"Pops, I ..." Chris stammered over his words. "I don't know. It's not that I don't want to marry your daughter. I do. But we never talked about this stuff or anything like that. I ..." he raked a hand through his hair. "And Trish has been acting funny lately and I don't understand why and ..."

"It's probably her mother," John answered. "Anna's very old fashioned like and I wouldn't be surprised if she has Trishy thinking the same way. I know my little girl hasn't had the best of luck with men."

Chris nodded, biting on his lip a moment.

"Can I count on you, kid?"

Chris paused for only a moment, meeting the older man's soft brown eyes. God, they matched Trish's. A soft smile pulled at his lips. "I'll take care of your daughter, Pops. Don't worry. She's safe in my arms."

A bright smile spread across John's face. "That's fantastic."

Chris kept the smile on his face as John re-entered the house. He knew he'd have to keep a close eye on Trish. If she really was following in her mother's footsteps, he'd have to fix that.

"Chris?"

His eyes flew to the door and he couldn't help but beam when he saw the woman there.

Trish walked down a few steps, her eyes on him. "Chris, I was looking everywhere for you and Daddy. We're about ready to do gifts and ..." she trailed off as Chris approached her.

He moved easily right in front of her, standing on the other side of the railing, on the floor so he had to look up at her on the stairs. "Kinda right out of Romeo and Juliet, isn't it." He said softly, every emotion glistening in his eyes. He reached up then with a hand, brushing the tips of his fingers along her arm.

Trish smiled, facing him and leaning slightly over the banister. "Your Juliet wants a kiss."

He licked his lips. "Your Romeo obeys." That said, he swung around the stairs, pouncing up two until he stood next to her. His heart swelled at her giggle. This was the Trish he loved. He leaned up towards her then, his lips covering hers for a long extended moment.

Trish placed a hand on his cheek, leaning closer to him to press her lips more forcefully against his.

He growled at her display of aggression, it had been days since she showed such want for him, despite all their love making. He wrapped his arms around her, seizing the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth.

Trish moaned, her body weakening at the sensations and she willingly returned his wonderful embrace. She wanted to kiss him forever.

"Trish," he breathed, pulling away from her but only far enough to speak. "Trish, I want to give you your biggest present now."

She licked her lips, her eyes glassy and hazed, there was lust behind her gaze. Her eyes widened when he pulled a box from his suit coat pocket and presented it to her. Cautiously, she took the box, her eyes glimmering with love and she slowly opened it.

Chris watched as her face dropped in awe and shock before her eyes met his.

"Chris ..." she whispered, her voice on her breath. "I can't accept this. It's ..."

"It's for you," Chris said, stopping her from handing it back to him. "I saw it in a dream. I was giving it to you and then when I saw it in real life, I knew it was a sign. Please, take it."

Trish didn't resist as he took the diamond drape from the box and slowly fastened it around her neck. "Chris," she sighed.

"I love you." He pledged. "I love you."

"I love you too," she answered, grabbing his head and viciously pulled him down, crashing her lips onto his.

Chris responded with equal fervor to her kiss, instantly deepening it, their tongues tangled in heart stopping passion.

"Chris," she breathed onto his lips and then he trailed his mouth down her jaw to her neck, running his tongue over her throat and the new diamond drape necklace.

"Do you know how much I love you?" he moaned into her neck, his hands roaming down her sides in his caress.

"Show me, Chris," she begged, arching into him. "Show me now."

"I'll show you physically tonight," he responded then pulled back to look in her eyes. "But I'll prove it now. Take my hand. We'll walk back in there, hand in hand. And sit close together, my arm around you. And we'll each grab a cup of coffee."

"You want coffee? I can get that for you."

But Chris shook his head. "No. We'll both get a cup and then sit with the family. My arm around you and the biggest smile on my face. And then you're going to smile too because when your sister Jill sees that necklace around your neck, everybody's going to be cooing over you for hours. I'll be long forgotten."

"Not by me," she answered then leaned up to prove her words with a tender kiss.


	15. December 27, 2004

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

December 27, 2004

Chris Jericho panted, a big smile on his face as he pushed through the curtains. His match had ended and he was pleased to be declared victorious. In all honesty, he didn't care what number entry he had for the Elimination Chamber, he fully intended on leaving the Payperview the new World Champion.

His smile brightened as he caught sight of Trish, standing down the corridor near his locker room. Speeding up his pace, he jogged down that corridor, his eyes beaming when she offered him a flirtatious grin and then beckoned him with the curl of a single finger.

Jericho could feel the excitement pulsating through him. Oh, the look in her eyes that moment. He could see it even from so far away. That seductive and teasing glimmer that had been extinguished for far too long. But he saw it. He knew it was in her.

Banging through the door to his locker room, he quickly slammed it shut, his back pressed against it as he flicked the lock, his eyes scanning the room. "I know you're in here," he soothed, his voice laced with desire, deep and husky with his need.

"Maybe," her soft female voice teased from somewhere in the room. "But you'll have to find me."

Chris chuckled taking a few tentative steps further into the room. "Oh, I'll find you alright. Now where'd you go, you little minx."

She didn't answer.

Jericho squinted his eyes, trying to look through the slits in the lockers. He let out a grunt when he was attacked from behind, a pair of tiny arms wrapped around his neck as an equal pair of slender legs wrapped around his waist.

"Got you," she whispered into his ear, her hot moist breath caressing the shell.

Chris chuckled, straightening a moment and letting her slide off of him. He turned casually then.

The sweetest smile stretched across Trish's face and she gazed up at him. The smile fell from her face, her breath catching in her throat at the glint in his eye.

Chris lunged at her, his hands gripping her hips as his mouth crashed to hers and he swiftly backed her against a wall, slamming her against the concrete in his desperation. She moaned into his mouth, her hands instantly tangling in his hair. He kissed her with unabandoned love, passion and aggression.

Trish responded with equal hunger, her tongue demanding and intense, her need fueling his passion as well.

He deepened the kiss even more for a moment before trailing his lips across her jaw and to her neck.

"Oh God," she moaned softly, her hands grabbing his head roughly, her palms cupping his scruffy cheeks. "I love your mouth," she proclaimed then crashed their lips together for a long heated kiss.

Their tongues and lips entwined, her hands caressing his cheeks. He moaned at her feverish pace and his need for her multiplied with every passing second.

"You didn't shave," she panted.

"I knew you liked it," he gruffed then dipped his tongue into her mouth, his hips pressing against hers.

* * *

Gene Snitsky clenched his teeth, staring after Eric Bischoff. He was pissed. Oh, was he pissed. And he had the sinking suspicion that the little bitch Lita was directly responsible for the match against Kane.

"LIIITTAAA!" Snitsky roared, his eyes ablaze as he turned their focus onto the door to his side. "LITA!" he pounded relentlessly on that door. Then he backed up a few and charged, slamming his shoulder roughly into that door. "I'm gonna get you, Lita."

"Not if I can help it."

Snitsky turned at the voice, his eyes instantly widening as a man charged him and the breath escaped his lungs as he was suddenly speared and brought to the ground.

Edge roared his anger, mounting the larger man as he threw punch after punch, doing his damndest to keep the bigger man down. "Don't you fucking touch her!" He yelled, his voice laced with venom and hatred.

Only when Snitsky's eyes rolled back into his head and the big man went limp did Edge release and stand. Snitsky was unconscious.

His eyes narrowing, Edge raked a hand through his long golden hair. "You better stay the FUCK away from her if you know what's good for you."

Walking to the door, the blond man pressed his ear against the wood, listening inside. He could hear tears, slight sobs. His eyes wide, his heart raced with worry. He knocked. "Sweetie?"

No response.

He knocked again. "Sweets? Darling? Come on, Baby, open the door. It's only me."

Nothing. Only her still soft sobs.

"Baby, Snitsky is down. I put him there. Please, let me in. My heart is stopping out here. Please."

A few long moments later, the door clicked open and the redhead peeked out.

"Baby," Edge sighed, slipping into the dark closet and then closing the door, standing in front of it so that no one could enter. He wanted her to feel safe. "Lita, Sweetie."

The redhead ducked her head, shaking it slightly as tears threatened her eyes. "I ... I've never been so scared in my life."

"Shhh," he hushed softly, gathering her into his arms. "There's nothing to be afraid of." He cooed, embracing her warmly. "I'll never let anyone hurt you."

"Edge," she breathed, wrapping her arms tightly around the blond man's neck. "You've never been this sweet to me before."

"Well, I was a fool." He sighed against her, his hands in a slow caress along her back. When she settled against him, a smile spread across his face. He had Lita. The only thing Christian ever really wanted. And after New Year's Revolution, he'd have the only other thing his half beat brother wanted ... The World Title.

* * *

Trish's head tilted back, her eyes fluttering closed as her lips parted with a sigh. The pleasure had finally overwhelmed her and she could no longer hold on as the beautiful sensation diminished, her head fell forward and her eyes focused on the man on his knees.

Her legs were draped over his shoulders, his hands on her hips as his lips trailed soft wet kisses along her smooth inner thighs. "Delicious." He moaned, his tongue swirling before his lips sealed.

She raked her fingers through his hair, trying to ease him back.

"No," he protested, pushing his face even closer to her. "I want more."

Trish suppressed a cry of ecstasy as he continued to pleasure her. She did not push him away.

* * *

Chris Benoit walked down the arena corridor towards the ramp. Though his match was over, his concern was for another man, a man who was once his friend. He opened his mouth to call his friend, but thought better of it as his eyes caught a peculiar sight.

"Don't worry about me," the big burly man said, raking his slicked black hair back from his eyes. "Batista can't win. I'm gonna win. And I'm going to take his place in the elimination chamber."

"I don't want you to," the small woman in front of him pleaded, one of her tiny hands on his arm. "That ... thing ... it's so scary."

Rhyno smiled, his grin toothy and his eyes glimmering with affection. "And I'm the manbeast. There is nothing to worry about." He glanced to the curtain when he heard her familiar music play. "There's your cue."

"Be careful," the redheaded woman pleaded, her hands cupping his face, her thumbs brushing across his cheeks.

Rhyno's smile grew gentle in a way not usual to him. "Christy," he sighed. "I'll be just fine. Kiss me luck."

Christy Hemme leaned towards him ever so slightly, her lips brushing along his and Rhyno reached up, cupping the back of her neck to pull her closer, kissing her with deep intensity.

The woman responded with equal fervor and maybe even more passion but then pulled back. Rhyno chuckled. "Mmmm."

Christy giggled, on hand brushing down his neck to his chest, caressing the greased skin of his pecks. "Don't get hurt out there. I want some ... special ... time for us later."

He playfully growled at her, biting and letting his teeth clack together and he leaned in for one final kiss before the bubbly redhead bounced off.

Benoit smiled to himself, turning the other way. Even if Rhyno lost the match, he'd certainly be a winner that night.

* * *

"Oh God ... Chris," she softly moaned, her body wracked with another intense pleasurable sensation and she shuddered at the overwhelming high. "Chris," her voice so husked and gruff, the pleasure far too much to bear. She stole a glance at the clock on the far wall. Had an hour and a half already passed?

His lips traveled along her thighs then up and to her abdomen as he gently placed her feet back on the ground. Her legs wobbled, her body trembling from the uncontrollably feelings coursing through her body.

Panting, his desire on fire and his body surging with need, Chris pushed to his feet, falling against her.

Their lips met in a fire heated embrace and Trish clutched at him, devouring him with an insatiable hunger. Her fingers raked roughly through his hair, yanking and pulling at his head so his mouth was right where she wanted him. Her body rocked into his, begging and pleading for him.

Chris growled, responding to her desperation. He deepened the kiss, grabbing her hips as he lifted her and Trish instantly wrapped her legs around his waist, crying out into his mouth at the sensation.

* * *

Lita glanced carefully around the arena, making sure she wasn't followed. Edge was already waiting by the curtain and he told her to wait in his locker room. But she was more frightened there. Hoping there was more safety in public. She stopped suddenly, her eyes widening at the sight of the tall man across the way. Gene Snitsky.

She ducked into a darkened corner, her eyes narrowed and intense. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in short gasps. She only prayed that Snitsky wouldn't see her.

Her guard dropped though as she noticed the other man standing with him, the short blond man who'd been on her mind, though she hadn't really seen in months. The shorter man had a dangerous gleam in his eye as he stood toe to toe with the big monster. Lita strained to hear what was being said.

Christian glared, angry and furious at the man in front of him. "You touch her again ... I'll fucking kill you. I swear to God."

Snitsky smiled. "And what is it that you'd do, little man." He coaxed. "Send your big bad problem solver after me?"

"No," Christian growled. "Because this is personal. And I will tear you ... limb ... from limb. I swear."

Snitsky only chuckled. "I don't fear you."

"You will," Christian's eyes narrowed for a moment, daring the larger man to strike first. Nothing happened and after a long stare down, Christian turned and walked the other way.

Lita wanted to run after him, scared to death that she was now alone with Snitsky so near. But she didn't move. Instead, she shrunk back into the shadows. Had she actually heard correctly?

* * *

"Chris," Trish moaned into his ear, her hands clutching at his neck and she buried her face into his throat.

Chris moaned as well, his body tensing before releasing, the tension draining away at the wonderful high that washed over him.

Blissfully enraptured, she clung to him, her arms tightening around his neck as she panted on his throat. "Oh Chris," she whimpered, their sweat slicked bodies pressed close, not an inch left between them.

Chris wiggled slightly against her, shifting his wait for a moment as he kept her pressed against the wall. "You're amazing. You feel amazing you ... taste ... amazing."

Trish moaned when his lips sought hers and she returned his kiss with equal tenderness and care. "God, I love you."

"I love you too," he pledged then gripped her waist, supporting her as he lowered her to the ground. "God damn it, has it been two hours already. I have to go out there. Randy wanted us at ringside to psych Hunter out during his match."

Trish watched as he gathered his tights and pulled them on, then boots. He didn't even bother with the underwear or jock. It would have been a waste anyway; the moment he returned, she'd just tear it all off of him.

Raking his hands through his hair, he turned to her, his arms outstretched as he smiled. "How do I look?"

"Mmm," she hummed, walking up to him. "Delicious."

He sighed at her nude loveliness and his eyes fluttered closed when her lips covered his, kissing him so sweetly he felt tears. "I love you, Baby," he mumbled softly to her. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," she responded, pulling back to look up into his eyes. She reached up then, tucking some stray fibers of hair behind his ear. "You look so satiated and satisfied."

"And the look will still be on my face when I'm sitting out there," he responded. "I'm in such a good mood."

"You're in a good mood?" she chuckled at him. "How do you think I feel?"

"You better feel fantastic," he jested with a winning grin then leaned towards her for a soft kiss then another and another.

"You're so good," she sighed as his lips trailed a hot path of fire down her neck. "Chris, you ... you always put my pleasure first."

"It's because I love you," he said deeply, pulling back to cup her face. He looked clear into her eyes, his heart exposed in his softened gaze. "Because I love you I want you to be so happy. I want to give you everything you ever wanted. And I'm not gonna screw this up. I love the way you feel ..." he trailed his hands down her back. "The way you look ..." his eyes scanned her face then body. "The way you taste ..." he leaned down to kiss her mouth.

Trish sighed against his lips, accepting the deep embrace he so obviously needed.

"MMmm." He hummed, licking his lips and then smiled beautifully at her. "Both your lips and your body ... everywhere."

Trish smiled at him, resting a warm palm against his scruff covered cheek. "I love the beard." She said then scraped her teeth gently along his chin before kissing there then up his cheek.

"You hated it at one time."

"One time," Trish brushed her lips back to his, flicking her tongue into his mouth for only a moment. "But not now. Be careful out there. For me ... ok?"

"Always," he breathed, his body already beginning to shake with desire. "But I better leave before I can't."

"Why couldn't you?" she breathed onto his lips.

He growled then, his eyes already starting to darken with lust. "Let's think about this. I'm only a man. And there's the most beautiful creature in the world standing naked before me, kissing me, and rolling her hips in a way that leaves no doubt to my imagination. That and because I'm a horny little devil."

"And I love my little lionheart," she said softly, her hands rubbing over his abdomen then slipping just under the waist of his tights.

He shuddered then a small smile crossed his lips. "And what about your big lionheart."

Teasingly, seductively, she leaned up, brushing her lips along his. "I think both my lionhearts are big."

"You love him more than me," he pouted, sweetly.

"Actually, I think you'd be surprised."

"By what?"

Her smile brightened and beamed, her eyes gleaming with purest love. "I love my lionheart's mouth the most. Even though he's a bit of an assclown." She tugged playfully on his hair.

Chris leaned down, obeying her silent request and kissed her. "Wanna go out for coffee after the show?"

She nodded, sealing her lips around his again.

Chris moaned, his eyes opening to check that clock on the wall. Reluctantly, he pushed her back and his heart broke when she whimpered in protest. "I will race back here right after."

Trish kissed him one last time and then watched him leave the room. He always made her feel so special and wanted ... so wonderful. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she began to gather her clothes.


	16. January 3, 2004

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

January 3, 2004

Chris Jericho frowned as he watched the television monitor. His heart tugged and pulled at what he witnessed and he no longer found solace in his conjured excuses. He simply didn't understand her anymore. She'd changed, and though he still loved her, she was entirely too different.

Trish Stratus pushed through the door to his locker room, her eyes down and unwavering as she paid him no attention and walked to her duffel bag. Immediately digging inside, she gathered her shampoo, conditioner and laid out a change of clothes. Sighing in what sounded like frustration, she raked a hand through her hair.

"You don't smile anymore."

She turned to him at those words, her face still marred with a sadness that couldn't be placed. "What?"

Chris stood but did not move from his place. "I said that you don't smile anymore."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged, his voice still soft despite her slowly rising tone. "It's just that it's been so long since I've seen you really smile. In the ring especially. You ... you used to smile so often and all of a sudden ... no more."

"I used to smile?" she questioned him and her arms crossed angrily across her chest. Her eyes narrowed, her glare vindictive. "When was that? When did I use to smile?"

Chris sucked his lower lip into his mouth, actually thinking of his answer. As he thought further and further back, a certain sorrow filled him. "Actually ... be ... before we started ..." he raised his eyes to hers, looking for hope, praying she would dismiss his fear.

She did not.

He swallowed hard, reading everything from anger to blame in her eyes. "Back in 2003. Before I ... before I broke your heart. You ... you always smiled ... before that."

She sighed at the memory. Though what he spoke of was not what she meant, in truth, he was right. She had been on a roller coaster ever since she became involved with Chris Jericho.

"I ..." He shook his head, ducking away from her. Without uttering another word, he rushed quickly from the room.

* * *

Lita followed Kane down the arena corridor. She eyed him with caution but also with an overwhelming sensation of trust. Kane was the last man she expected to aid her this evening.

When Snitsky came down to the ring ... when he and Trish almost appeared to be double teaming her. When her neck was trapped in that chair. She didn't expect Kane.

She had been involved with Edge for months. She believed that the man loved her. But where was he. He did not rush to her aid and he no doubt had more than enough time to do so.

And Christian. What of Christian? He surely seemed to care for her from what she had witnessed last week. But he also did not come to her aid.

Not even Matt, the man who claimed to love her, the man whom she believed that she loved ... Matt had not exactly been released to return to the ring. But he knew that she was being threatened by Snitsky and yet he never attempted in all these weeks to come see her, to call.

But the one she could count on when she was in trouble, the man who came to her aid ... was Kane. And then to add to her confusion, she wasn't quite sure what he would do once in the ring with her. All the big red machine did was lift her up, ensuring she was alright.

Lita felt her breath catch in her throat as she could easily read Kane's lips in that ring. He had sworn to kill Snitsky. He had sworn to protect her, to make him pay for all the hell she'd been through.

She cocked her head as they continued to walk. She hadn't seen Edge today at all, nor had Christian made any approach. In all honesty, she wasn't sure where Snitsky was or if he had any surprises planned. She wasn't bound to leave Kane's side. And if Edge wouldn't come to her before ... and in that ring ... how could she expect him now?

* * *

Trish kept her eyes downturned, her legs crossed as she sat waiting in the locker room. She hadn't seen Chris since he barged out and she'd only just witnessed his crossbody onto two men, she was expecting him shortly. After all, he wouldn't leave the arena without returning.

Chris barged into the locker room, his eyes never searching hers as he grabbed his bag and shoved all his belongings inside. "I have a gig with Fozzy. Don't wait up for me."

She could barely respond before he whisked the bag onto his shoulder and rushed out the door.

* * *

Jeff Hardy sighed, shaking his head as he turned off the television set. "Will they never learn?"

* * *

Chris Jericho wiped the sweat from his brow then bowed at the applauding crowd. "Thank you. Thank you so much and buy or new album!"

The crowd's applause was deafening.

Jericho smiled even brighter, bowing in recognition before running off stage.

"Great job out there, Chris."

"Thanks," Jericho acknowledged, the grin still on his face. He pulled his leather jacket on over his sweaty torso, the black t-shirt he wore was soaked and sticking to his body. He smoothed his hands over his leather clad legs and then stepped out the back door and into the alley.

Trish pulled her coat tighter around her body, wrapping her arms around herself as she watched the man down the end of the alley. It wasn't necessarily cold outside, but she felt cold. She cocked her head. When had he started smoking?

Chris stood a ways away from that backstage door, leaning against the brick wall, a cigarette hanging from his hand. She watched the light glow of embers, the smoke willowing up and everything brightened when he inhaled a long drag.

His head tilted back then as he expelled the breath slowly, his body sagging with the relief he appeared to gain.

She walked slowly, approaching him as quietly as she could.

Chris's eyes widened as he saw her, recognized her and he stood straight, but did not drop the cigarette. He sighed. How lovely she looked, even with the small frown on her face, the sadness in her glazed eyes. Her leather coat was tied at the waist, her black jeans hugging perfectly. Her blonde hair fanned back over her shoulder.

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Instead he only watched as she stopped in front of him. He didn't resist when she took the cigarette from his hand and drop it to the ground. Without another hesitation, she stepped into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she hugged him.

Chris paused, unresponsive at first but after only a moment, he wrapped his arms around her, ducking his head into her throat, burying his face in her hair. He inhaled, her scent overwhelming him.

She didn't speak, only held him. Her tears burned at her eyes, her chest beginning to shudder with unshed sorrow.

Chris hugged her even tighter. "Trish, I ..."

"Shh," she hushed, leaning back from him and pressing her fingers to his lips. "Don't speak." She licked her lips, her eyes meeting his. "I ... I'm sorry, Chris. I ... I never meant to insinuate that ..."

"You're right," he interrupted her and when she would silence him again, he only shook his head. "Let me speak."

She waited.

"Trish," he breathed, reaching up to touch her cheek with his hand, his finger catching the teardrop from her eye. "I realize the bastard that I am. I remember how you used to smile ... when I watched you and pined for you from afar. You would always smile and you had the most beautiful smile. And all I ever wanted to do was to make you smile like that. To always make you smile, to make you happy."

"That's why I'm sorry," she stopped him before he blamed himself anymore. "I'm sorry that I made you think that you don't make me the happiest woman alive."

His brow softened, a smile tugging at his mouth. "Smile for me."

She sighed. "I can't smile ... knowing you'll be in that chamber on Sunday. Ever since I found out about that I ..."

"I'll be fine."

"Fine?" She swallowed the tears in her voice. "I remember your first Elimination chamber. You were thrown through the glass. You were bleeding and so hurt. And ... I ... I couldn't take that. I couldn't handle it. I know I can't."

"It'll be ok, Baby," he said, gently. "I know I can get hurt but you better believe I'm gonna be damn careful. I have something to live for now." He brushed his fingers over her cheek and then through her hair. "I'll be ok ... for you."

"Promise me you'll walk out of there."

"I don't know if I can do that," he responded honestly. "Sweetheart, you know that I can't control everything that happens. God only knows what Edge or Hunter are planning on doing. Or if Batista gets the sudden urge to toss me through something."

Trish bowed her head, her blonde hair falling into her face.

But Chris would have none of that. He hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her eyes back to his. "But I can promise you this. I'm gonna do my best to win. And to fight as hard as I can. And I swear that when I get out of there, winner or loser, I will be in good enough condition to hold you in my arms and to kiss you. Making love ... we may have to wait a while."

She let out a teary laugh at his jest.

"That's my girl," he sighed, his eyes twinkling with unadulterated love. "That's the smile I fell in love with."

Her smile remained at his words.

He smiled just as brightly, cupping her face in his hand. "I'd kiss you but ... it's been so long since you smiled at me like that ... I ... I just want to look at you."

Her eyes brightened still, her heart swelling.

"God, how beautiful you are," he breathed, his one arm tightening around her waist, pulling her closer. "Let me make you smile."

"You do," she answered him, her hands reaching up to cup his face, just to touch him. "You ... you shaved."

"It was kinda itchy." Chris leaned towards her, pressing his forehead to hers as he nuzzled her with sincere tenderness and affection. "Do you remember the last time we were in this position, my Love?"

Trish nodded, her nose brushing against his. "The last time we were like this ... we were about ... three hours north."

"And we were in the alley for a good, twenty minutes."

"Yeah."

"And you took my breath away," he admitted. "No woman ever kissed me the way you did. No woman ever held me like that ... kissed me like she wanted to not because it was expected. Kissed me because she wanted me so much ... she just had to."

"Chris?"

"What?" his brow rose questioningly, his eyes full of hope.

Trish smiled at him again. "Kiss me ... like I kissed you."

He spun her quickly, pinning her flush against the wall, her breath catching at the sudden motion. He pressed his hips against hers, his hands roaming down her sides as he quickly untied her coat and opened her to his gaze. His hands gripped her hips, slipping around her waist to slide up the back of her shirt.

Trish gasped, shivering at his quick movements and she didn't have time to react as he bent down, his lips crashing to hers. She moaned at the feel, his lips hot and demanding as his tongue twined into her mouth, tangling and dancing with hers.

Chris growled against her lips as her tongue responded with the same passion, so hot and moist, so delicious. Her hands raked through his hair, clutching at his head as she pulled him even closer.

She suddenly broke the kiss, laughing a moment and she ducked her head.

"What ... what's so funny?" he asked in a breathless voice.

Trish licked her lips, eyeing his already kiss swollen lips and noting his flushed and aroused appearance.

"You laughing at my kiss?"

"No," she shook her head, touching his face to ease his doubt. "No no, not that. I ... I'm thinking about us. How ... how we always end up in each others arms."

"And that's funny?"

She nodded, her heart bursting at the slightly hurt look on his face. "But only because I ... I love you so much."

His brow furrowed. "You're laughing ... because you love me?"

She nodded, a small giggle slipping past her lips.

He smiled then, standing tall a moment. "Then I make you smile ... and my day is made."

Trish returned his smile and pulled his head down, capturing his lips in a heart searing kiss.


	17. January 10, 2005

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

January 10, 2005

Rhyno clenched his teeth, adjusting his boots, tying them tightly. He didn't know if he'd have a match or not. But he'd had nothing but bad luck in that ring as of late. He clenched his teeth, willing his anger to subside. He had every reason to be angry, and yet ... he shouldn't.

"Rhyno?"

He barely glanced to the door at the call of his name. He only looked long enough to see the flash of red and the slender figure of a woman before he turned his attention back to his boots and then knee pads.

"Rhyno, I ... I have to tell you something."

Rhyno didn't really respond, expecting her to tell him of some liaison with a certain other wrestler. He knew he'd never be enough for her. He knew she would never really care for him. There were too many other men around. Men with better bodies and who weren't so gruff and rough. Men who were romantic and sensitive.

"Rhyno?"

He indifferently lifted his gaze, his eyes meeting hers coolly.

Christy Hemme shifted uncomfortably under his cold eyes, playing with her fingers. "I ... I wanted to tell you that Bischoff has me booked tonight in a Lingerie Pillow fight against Maria. And I ... I know that ... I just wanted to tell you first before I had to go out there."

"You do whatever you like, Christy. I don't matter."

"Why do you say that? Of course you matter."

He stood then, turning from her to sort through her bag, though there really wasn't much to sort. "I didn't see you jumping to get on my shoulders this past weekend at the hotel's pool."

"Oh my God, Honey," she walked up to him, placing a hand on his back. "Is that why you've been like this?"

He shrugged away from her.

"Nuh uh," she said, spinning him roughly to look in his eyes. "No, you listen to me."

Rhyno didn't look away. He pressed his lips tightly together, his eyes searching hers.

"Sweetheart," she cooed at him, her hands gently caressing his arms then down to entwine their fingers. "I want you to listen to me. That ... that chicken fight and that goofing off was just us goofing off for the cameras. And we were just having a good time. I know you were playing pool with Tajiri and you were gonna come out there and the moment you did, I would have been at your side, dragging you into that swimming pool."

Rhyno chuckled, unable to help himself from picturing the little redhead, shoving him into the water, giggling at him as he surfaced, sputtering water from his lips.

"You see," she coaxed him then traced her hands up his arms and over his test, teasing him slightly by gnawing on her lower lip, her eyes flashing seductively. "And we certainly had our own bit of fun. The hotel room ... the shower ... the arena corridor."

He blushed.

Christy laughed, teasingly running a finger down his cheek. "That's my man. Now why don't I ..." she eased the straps of his one piece down and pushed the costume to his hips. "Help loosen you up ..." She slipped her hands under the waist of his costume, tickling her hands down. "Before your match."

"My ... my match?"

"Uh huh," she continued to tease him. "You have a match against Edge to qualify for the Royal Rumble. Whether you win or lose, that won't matter. I want you in our hotel room tonight too. But right now you have a match to be ready for. I want to help ... stretch ... you out. And you can help me ... stretch ... too."

Rhyno growled, his eyes blazing with lust as he wrapped his arms around the slender women and kissed her passionately.

* * *

Trish sat alone in her locker room, her body sagged back against the couch, her eyes closed. Her heart was still racing after last night. After the horrifying elimination chamber. After the love of her life bled ... and bled and bled.

She sighed, her eyes opening to focus on her women's title belt. Was that even worth it anymore? Was the World Title worth all the pain and suffering that Chris endured?"

"Trishy?"

She gasped, her eyes flying to the door at the voice. Though she knew who it was, he still frightened her. "Chris, you scared me."

His eyes were still hazed from the previous day, from that elimination chamber. His forehead taped and bandaged, his body obviously sore. Jericho walked to her, kneeling down in front of her to take her hands in his. "You ok, Sweetie?"

She shook her head, her eyes downturned to focus on their entwining fingers. "I just ... as much as Lita and I are at ends ... I ... I never wanted to see her hurt. And I think back to last night and wonder if there was something else I could have done but I ... I realize that I couldn't. And then I think of you in that chamber and all the blood."

Chris hooked a finger under her chin, lifting her eyes to meet his. "I realize that I didn't hold to my promise."

Trish gasped as he leaned forward, taking her lips gently with his. The kiss was soft and sweet.

Pulling back, he took her lower lip with him for only a moment before letting it slide back against her teeth. He smiled willingly, raking the blonde hair from his eyes and away from his bandage. "I couldn't kiss you after my match. So I kiss you now. I'm ok, Sweetheart. I'm still sore and my head hurts and I'm woozy and probably concussed. But I'm really ok."

"And your arm?"

Chris glanced down at his bandaged forearm and he protectively placed his opposite hand over the injury then rubbed up to his elbow. He was wrapped pretty snuggly. "My arm ... on the other hand ... hurts like hell."

A sad frown spread across Trish's face. "Do you really have to go out there? To wrestle in that match tonight?"

"It won't be a difficult match," Chris pacified her, brushing the tips of his fingers across her cheek. "It's only Christian and Tomko."

Trish nodded, worry in her eyes. "Both of which can hurt you if they want to. They'll work your arm. And you're bruised. You're sore."

He chuckled, his eyes bright despite the opposite pain. "I'm the walking wounded."

"My heart is going to stop during your match."

"Then don't watch," he suggested with a smile.

She offered him an incredulous look and she shook her head. "How can you say that? And how can you act so lightly about this? You're hurt, Chris. When will you stop? When will you just say ... no."

"I will not leave Benoit in there alone. I will not feed him to the wolves. I'll be even more bruised and quite possibly hurt even worse ... but I can't let him do this alone."

Trish licked her lips, her eyes on the clock a moment before returning to his eyes. "You should get to the curtain then."

He nodded slowly, his ice blue eyes locked on hers. "Don't be afraid. I'll be alright. Do ... do you have a match?"

"I don't know," she answered with a shrug. "I want you to meet me back at the hotel. We have a suite tonight and I ... I want to take care of you. I know you're going to be hurting and I want to try to ... to take away that pain."

He smiled sweetly at her, his eyes sparkling with the affection he held for this woman. "I'll see you there, then." He cupped her cheek, leaning towards her to take her lips in a long, tender kiss. Reluctantly, he released her mouth and he stood, walking to the door.

* * *

Chris Jericho clenched his teeth, his wince ever present on his face as he stumbled down the corridor of his hotel. He wasn't sure if Trish was back yet but he didn't care. He didn't even take the time to shower. He had to get out of there. He never knew pain existed like the pain he felt that very moment.

Helplessly dragging his duffel bag behind him, he eventually reached his hotel room and sliding the keycard – with much difficulty – he pushed inside.

The room was dark, the lights dimmed low and as he inhaled, he gathered the faint scent of lavender and lilacs. She must be here. Maybe having a bath.

Hissing in pain, he dropped the strap to his bag to the floor and then placed a protective hand on his elbow. The pain was almost unbearable. He just wanted to roll over and go to bed, if he could sleep through all this pain. "Trish?"

"In here, Sweetie," she answered. "The bathroom. Can you come here a minute?"

Chris didn't respond but slowly walked to the bathroom and opened the door. The wince fell from his face as his eyes sought her. Her hair was soft and flowing, her body hugged by a tight silken robe that hung low to the floor. The large deep tub was filled, the steam rising slowly and he could smell the scents she placed into the hot water.

"I ran the tub for you. I wanted to help. I can bathe your pain. Relax your muscles ... your mind."

His eyes focused intently, darkening as he licked his lips. Suddenly his pain was the last thought in his mind. All he wanted was to grab this woman and make sweet passionate love to her until he passed out from exhaustion. But it would probably pull every muscle in his body to do so.

"Will you let me?"

He swallowed hard and when he spoke, his voice was deep and laced with lust. "Will you join me?"

She smiled beautifully at him, her eyes scanning his body. "Of course. If that's what you want."

"Help me with these clothes," he said, deeply, "and these bandages and ... But I ... I don't know how much I can ..."

"Shh," she silenced him with an even sweeter smile and she stepped up to him, her eyes on his face as she pet his lips with the tips of her fingers. "This night is about you. I'll do all the work."

He smiled, winningly, an almost goofy grin spreading across his face. "Well I can still do _some_ of the work."

She chuckled, teasingly running her fingers through his hair then down the side of his face. "Ok. But tonight isn't about me. I want this to be about you."

"Trish," he said sternly, his eyes on hers. "This doesn't have anything to do with that ..."

"Just because I want to take care of you doesn't mean I'm trying to be subservient." She snapped at him. "I love you, Chris. And you're in pain. And I know that a hot bath, a nice massage and just ... anything I can do to help ease your pain."

Chris sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as he pressed his forehead to hers. "I'm sorry, Trish. I love you too. I just ... I don't want you to ever do anything for me because you feel you have to or ..."

"I know," she breathed onto his lips, her warm moist breath causing him to shiver. "Just let me love you tonight. Let me treat you to a dream."

"You are my dream," he sighed, his lips closing the final distance between them.

* * *

Dave Batista groaned, pushing out of his bed. He was furious after that heinous match earlier that evening. And not only did he want to be alone, he didn't want to be disturbed. He was confused and angry and frankly, whoever it was that was knocking on his door this late ... would certainly have to face his wrath.

He yanked the door open, his gaze surprised and instantly softening.

Lilian Garcia ducked her head, nervously sucking her lower lip into her mouth.

"Lilian," he said curtly, his voice unwavering despite his surprise to see her. "What are you doing here?"

"I ... I want to talk, Dave." She looked up at him then, her eyes glazed and tearfilled. "Can ... can we talk?"

Dave stepped aside, allowing her to enter his hotel room.

(Considering the low number of reviews, I may consider to end this fic far sooner than expected. I was thinking of writing till Wrestlemania, but if I do not feel enough people are reading, I may end it as soon as the Rumble. If you want me to finish what I had planned, please review me and let me know you're still reading and want more.)


	18. January 17, 2005

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin 

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

January 17, 2005 

Trish Stratus waited patiently in the shadows outside her locker room. She watched with narrowed eyes as Mohammed Hassan walked head high through the curtain and then down the corridor, speaking to his manager in a language she didn't understand. Without another word, she ducked back into her locker room, knowing he would come.

She was right.

Jericho stumbled into the locker room not one moment later. His head cradled his head, his eyes slit as his teeth clenched. The pain swelled through his back and neck and he let out a strangled hiss as he stood still a few moments.

"Chris," she breathed, stepping up to him and she reached out to stroke her hands across his cheeks. She adored the scruff on his jaw but now certainly was not the time to tell him so.

"How the hell did I lose control of that?" he asked with a slow shake of the head. Still cupping the back of his neck, he forced open his eyes, gazing onto her lovely face. "Trish … Darling."

"Shhh," she hushed him, petting her fingers across his lips for a moment before tugging on his arm. She offered him a seductive smile, her lips tweaking beautifully as her eyes flickered with a desire that never seemed to die. "Come on. I can help you forget."

He returned her smile, though his was far more goofy and crooked. Though despite his grin, his eyes mirrored her lust, the unquenchable thirst blazing powerfully beyond the ice blue of his normally placated eyes.

She giggled as she reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck and she brushed her lips teasingly over his.

Chris had to suppress a moan as his eyes fluttered, his body trembling from only that small kiss. Banding his arms around her waist, he crashed their lips together, pulling her body flush to his as he fell onto the couch, pinning her beneath his taut body.

* * *

Dave Batista shouldered his duffel bag. Not even bothering to shower, he had only pulled on a pair of sweat pants and he currently walked to his car. He just had to get out of there. He couldn't be around anyone. 

Confusion raced through his mind. His choices scrolled in his head. Should he enter the rumble? Should he listen to Hunter?

He just wasn't sure anymore.

* * *

Randy Orton raced down the corridor, his eyes focused, his mind intent. He wanted to be one place only. Not even bothering to knock, he slammed through the door to the women's locker room. "Out ... everyone." Then he smiled. "Everyone ... but you." 

Stacy Keibler returned his smile and her brow rose teasingly as she placed her hands on her hips. The other women scattered from the room.

Randy licked his lips as he slammed the door closed, his eyes unwavering of the women before him. He nearly moaned when a little pink tongue peeked from between her lips and she licked them moist. "You tease me in front of the camera, woman. You act ..."

"Innocent?" she responded for him. "I am innocent, Legend Killer."

"Innocent," he chuckled, sauntering over to her, making sure he took his time. He knew how she enjoyed looking at his body and he made absolutely certain she could view every part she wanted.

Stacy nodded, trying desperately to force her eyes to stay on his face, no matter how difficult that was. "Yes. Innocent."

That indescribable hunger flamed in his eyes, his expression serious and desire filled. "I'll show you innocent."

She gasped as his lips suddenly found hers, his hands racing around her back to pull her close and he swiftly devoured her before she even had time to react.

"You tease me, woman," he growled as his lips trailed to her throat and then he pulled back to look in her eyes.

Stacy panted, her own eyes blazing with lust. "Don't tease me anymore."

Randy crashed his lips to hers. He had no intention of being a tease.

* * *

Trish arched her back, her eyes rolling back into her head as her fingers clutched at the flesh of his shoulders then raked down to his waist. Her pants fell delicately from her lips, and she clenched her teeth as he grabbed her thighs, positioning them higher on his hips. She obeyed his silent wish and clasped her legs more tightly around him. 

Licking her lips, she forced her eyes to focus on the clock across the room. "Hurry," she beckoned him with a desperate spur of her hips. "Your ... your match is ... is now."

"I don't care," Chris growled, sealing their lips in a passionate kiss as he quickened their rhythm.

* * *

Batista dropped his belongings on the floor of his suite. He was thankful that he wouldn't be disturbed this night. He didn't want any disruptions. All he wanted to do was shower and go to bed. 

He had been more tired as of late and he didn't quite know why. Instead of resisting, he embraced the urge to sleep. Somehow, it was the only place he could escape where everything was alright.

* * *

Chris Jericho winced, holding his head as he stumbled into the trainer's room. His head swirled, his eyes fluttering as he fell onto the bench, the trainers reaching out to steady him. 

"Chris," Trish called, racing into the room, uncaring of the others or the strange looks they gave her. "Oh Chris, that ... that was awful out there."

"Trish," he sighed, attempting to sit up but a wave of nausea swept him and he fell back onto the table.

"Don't," she said quickly, running to his side and placing a hand on his chest, making sure he would not rise again. "Be still. Don't make it worse. What is it? What happened?"

"When Benoit kicked me through the ropes ... my ... my head his ... my forehead hit the ground damn hard." He managed to laugh at himself. "Can you believe it?"

Trish only shook her head. "Don't move, ok? I just have to go trash talk Lita. I'll be right back."

Chris didn't respond positively or negatively. Nothing he could say would sway her either way, so he didn't even bother.

Chris didn't know how much time passed and he completely engrossed himself in the comfort of the cold ice on his forehead. He jumped as someone bashed through the door and he squinted.

Rhyno pushed past the trainers, stopping swiftly at his side. He panted a while, trying his best to catch his breath.

"What is it?" Jericho laughed, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "Calm down. Breathe. Relax. Just tell me."

"Trish," the dark man huffed and he tried to continue as the sudden worry rose in the blond man's eyes. "Kane ... he ..."

"What!" Jericho roared, pushing up, wavering as he did so. "What ... did ... Kane ..." his faced fumed red, his body tensing and he shuddered with unyielding intensity.

Rhyno swallowed hard. "Chokeslam."

Jericho's eyes widened as his body surged. Anger, fear, love, loathing, pain, betrayal. It was too much. His injury, his head dizzy and his emotions out of control. Trish had to be hurt. The chokeslam ... he ... that monster. Too much to handle, the emotions took over and he was engulfed in a world of darkness.

* * *

Trish couldn't move. Her body was sore ... painful. She didn't want to open her eyes. She didn't even want to think. The visions of the last moments in that ring raced through her mind. The fear, the absolute fear. And then pain. Complete and unrelenting pain. 

But then something else grabbed her attention. She wasn't alone. There was a stern hard grip on her one hand. Someone's palm was sweaty in her, balmy and then she could notice the shaking of the bed. A head was pillowed against her hip, whoever it was must have been crying for she could feel the shuddering of silent sobs.

She inhaled deeply, willing herself to rouse no matter the pain that intensely shot through her body.

"Trish?"

She hummed forcing her eyes to open and adjust. As the fog cleared, the first sight that graced her vision was the tearfilled ice blue eyes of Chris Jericho. She sighed his name.

"I'm here. I'm here, Baby," he cracked out. "Oh my God. I ... I have to get the doctor."

"No, wait," she forced out, her hand clutching more tightly at his. Her eyes cleared and upon seeing him, the pain pushed from her mind.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, crying with his sorrow. "I should have been watching. I ... there was no monitor in there ... I ... I didn't know. I didn't know what was happening. And when ... when Rhyno told me it ... it already happened and you ... and I ... oh God, Trish."

The blonde woman did not fight the arms of her beloved when he gathered her against his chest, hugging her tightly. She clenched her teeth though, withholding the wince his actions caused. She was in complete pain.

He eased her back, making sure she was comfortable in the hospital bed and he smiled cheerily down at her. He choked on a laugh. "I'm sorry, Sweetie. I ... I shouldn't have left you I ..."

"Shhh," she responded with a soft smile and reached up to touch his cheek. "I don't blame you. I never could."

"Trish," he sighed, leaning down to press his lips softly to hers. "Oh God to ... to think that we were making love and then ... twenty minutes later this ... this happens."

She sniffed. "Just hold me, Chris."

"I love you," he mumbled, kissing her once then again.

"I love you too," she breathed in response.

Unable to stop the tears from dripping down his cheek, he leaned down, stretching out beside her battered body. Being extra careful, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He felt such anger, such disdain, such hatred as she shivered slightly and the few droplets of tears slipped from her eyes.

Kane would pay. He would see to that. One way or another.

* * *

Dave closed his eyes, his body sagged as he approached his suite door. Without questioning, he opened the door. 

Lilian Garcia glanced up at him with sad eyes. "I saw the smile on your face tonight. You haven't smiled like that in a long time."

"I haven't had much reason to smile."

She smiled, cocking her head at him.

He returned her smile. "I guess I do now."

"You're better than all of them, Dave," she sighed, reaching a tentative hand out to touch his brow. "You can prove it." That said, she stepped into his room, allowing the door to close gently behind her.

(Well I'm glad to see everyone wants me to continue. So we'll go as long as ... well whatever. Thanks for the reviews and I appreciate all the more. The more reviews, the better.)


	19. January 31, 2005

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

January 31, 2005

Chris Jericho clenched his teeth, seething in both anger and frustration. He knew that his team should have won that match. Benoit and he completely had the capability of defeating La Resistance for those tag titles. But everything just fell apart in the ring.

Jericho knew that he was completely distracted. The last two weeks, his mind had always been furthest from wrestling. His mind was always with Trish.

He shook his head as he continued down the arena corridor. She was still home in Toronto, recouping from that chokeslam. His fists clenched, his body shaking with the sudden rise of furious rage. She was injured and he had done nothing to stop it. What kind of man did he think he was? What kind of man would let the love of his life be treated so brutally?

Hopefully she would recover soon. He missed her terribly and with the long trip to Japan planned, he would see little of her for the next few weeks.

Sighing heavily, he could only shake his head. He hadn't even had time to go and see her. He'd been so busy with having to wrestle and then his mother and father needed his help on the few days he'd had off. He did call her but that somehow did not seem enough. He should have made time for her. He should have done something.

Nearly defeated, Chris swallowed his sorrows and proudly raised his head. His eyes widened. "Trish?"

Trish Stratus stood a little ways down the hall, her head slightly bowed as she waited outside his locker room. She looked up at his voice and a bright smile spread across her face as she pushed off the wall, awaiting him.

Chris burst into a run, stopping directly in front of her as he scanned her body. She was lovelier than ever. He reached out tentatively, his eyes clouding over at the sight of the soft neck brace.

She quickly grabbed his hand, smiling brightly in an attempt to direct his attention elsewhere. "Chris," she sighed, gently. "Chris, I've missed you."

"I missed you too," he responded, leaning down to kiss her mouth. Slow, soft, and sensual, this kiss extended as long as he could hold his breath. "Trish, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't come see you. I ... wait ... what are you doing here?"

Her smile seemed to grow as her eyes searched his and she gently brushed her fingers across his cheek. She didn't give him an answer but instead let her gaze wander over him. Then she lifted up onto her toes to seal their lips again.

He shuddered at the sensation. "Oh God, the feel of you in my arms again ..." he trailed off as their lips met one final time. He couldn't help the little whimper of frustration when she pulled away.

Trish simply laughed, affectionately petting his mouth then stroking his cheek. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she hugged him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. His intoxicating scent flooded her senses and she pursed her lips to place a sweet kiss on his throat.

Chris ducked down, pressing his cheek against her as he tightened his embrace. "What are you doing here? You're not cleared to return. What are ..."

"And am I not allowed to see the man I love?"

"It's just ... well, surprising, that's all," he answered, easing her back to look on her face. "You're only here for me?"

"Well, no," she admitted with a sweet giggle. "I have other ... business, if you will. But You were my second equal reason for being here. I missed you. So I sought you out first."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm pleased that I come second in your book of importance."

"Not second," she corrected him. "Equal with the first. Come. Walk with me." She grabbed his hand then, leading him down the hallway and to the curtain.

"What are we doing?"

"I have business."

Chris tensed and his tension rose as she led them into a small alcove, hiding them from any passers-by. "I don't like the tone of your voice. What do you mean business?"

Trish sighed, looking up to meet his eyes. Despite the darkness, there was just enough light so she could see the glistening of his eyes, the soft curves of his features and that slight scruff on his jaw. Unable to resist, she traced a single finger through that scruff. "Trust me, Chris. I'll tell you in a minute."

He waited patiently as she watched from the shadows but for what she was looking for, he did not know. Stage hands and other crew members bustled by but she paid them no heed.

"Dave"

His eyes widened at her call and Dave Batista searched the area around him as if searching for the voice. Trish stepped just out of the shadows, waving to the big man. Chris felt his heart clench, his body surge. What was she thinking?

Trish smiled as she grabbed Batista's hand, pulling him a little further into the shadows. "Dave, I need to ask a favor."

"Of course," Dave answered, his eyes true but still worried. "But how are you? Your neck?"

She waved off his concern, easily sensing Chris's discomfort and she reached back to grab his hand. "It's ok. I'm fine. Just a little stiff and sore. But that doesn't matter. I have a favor to ask ... of both of you."

Chris obeyed her tug and soon stood next to Batista, his eyes full of wary for a moment before looking back at the woman before him. "You're acting so strange. I don't understand."

"The Kane/Snitsky match is now. The cage match." She said slowly then licked her lips, gathering the courage to say the next words. "I'm going out there."

Jericho's eyes widened. "No!" He quickly shook his head, his eyes locking with hers. "No, you can't. What ... why ... I ... why would you go out there? What are you going to do? I don't understand. I ..."

Trish placed a reassuring hand on his arm though the action did little to quell his emotions. "That's why I need Dave." She turned her eyes on the big man, a pleading gaze reflected. "Dave, please. I need you to keep him back here."

"What?" Chris shook his head in fierce protest. "No way. Bullshit. I'm not letting you go out there."

"Dave, please," she begged, reaching out another hand to touch Batista's forearm.

"None of this 'Dave' shit," he snapped viciously, standing between her and Batista. "You talk to me. You tell me what you're thinking. I'm not letting you go out there."

Trish sighed, sadly, her eyes glistening with a sorrow never shown before. "Chris? Do you love me?"

Taken aback by her question, he furrowed his brow, unsure what she was asking. "What? Do I love you? Of course I do. You know that."

"Then let me do this. And stay back here. Don't come out. No matter what."

"You can't ask me that." He answered shaking his head at her. "How could you ask me that? Knowing that you're going to go out there and anything can happen and God help me, I'm not gonna let another man hurt you again." He clenched his teeth. "It was bad enough I let that Heidenreich near you way back when and now there is no way in fucking hell I'm letting you out there with Snitsky and Kane. If you gotta go out there for some reason, then I'm going with you."

Trish stepped away from him, shaking her head at his words and that sadness magnified in her eyes. "Chris, if you love me ... if you trust me, you'll let me do this on my own. You'll let me do what I have to do."

"What do you have to do?" he questioned, reaching out to grab her hands with his, pulling them against his chest. He gazed down at her, mirroring her sadness though with double the emotion. "Why can't I do it for you? Or we can do it together."

"No," she corrected him but did not pull away. "Please, understand."

Defeated, Chris dropped her hands, his head bowed. "And Dave is ..."

"Gonna keep you here," she answered for him. "Will you stay here?"

Jericho sighed. "Is that truly what you want? You want me to stay back here while you charge out there and do something that I'm unable to help or protect or ..."

"Chris, please," she begged. "Trust me."

He stepped away from her, his back turned. "Go. Go now before I change my mind."

"Thank you, Chris."

He shivered when he felt her hands on his back and that shiver chilled his core at the soft kiss she placed at the sweaty skin on his back. It was a long few moments before he felt her leave and then another few longer moments before he turned around.

Dave had not moved.

Chris chuckled. "I see there's gonna be no getting past you."

Dave smiled.

* * *

Dave clenched his teeth, his arms wrapped around the smaller man as he lifted Jericho into the air, holding him back.

"Let ... me ... go!" Jericho cried, uncaring of the spectacle he was. "I gotta get out there."

"No," Dave growled, tightening his hold. "I swore I'd keep you here. And by God, Jericho, you ain't going anywhere."

"He almost chokeslammed her again. He tore the thing off her neck, he ..."

"And she's ok." Batista argued. "Calm down before I knock you out."

Jericho stilled.

Dave put him back down, tossing him against the metal fixture of the backstage ramp, keeping Jericho from walking out that curtain.

Chris brushed himself off, turning passionate eyes upon the man before him. "Let me go out there, Dave."

"No."

"Please," he begged, hearing Kane's music play loudly through the arena. "Please, the match is over. The cameras are probably off. Nobody would know."

"I can't," Batista answered, slowly shaking his head. "I promised Trish."

Chris took a step closer. "Dave have you ever been in love?"

Batista tensed, his eyes averting.

"Dave," Jericho stepped closer still. "Dave, picture that woman you love in Trish's shoes. And place yourself in mine. What would you do?"

Dave still didn't respond, but his eyes gave away every emotion swirling within him.

"You'd go out there," Chris pressed. "Let me go out there. Let me help the woman I love."

"I know how we both can get what we want," Batista finally said then a sly smile spread across his face. "We wait here. And when Kane comes back, we both can get him."

Jericho smiled.

* * *

Trish Stratus lingered, watching with wary eyes as Kane walked up the ramp to the back. She was tempted to slip back into the ring to check on Snitsky but that thought quickly left her mind. Reaching back to rub at the sore muscles of her neck, she slowly made her way up that ramp, being extra cautious. She really did not know where Kane was.

Meandering behind the curtain, she walked down the steep metal stairs then glanced around. Where was Chris? And what was that scuffling?

Creeping slowly so not to be seen, Trish peeked around the corner and into those same dark shadows she was in only minutes ago. Her eyes widened. "Chris, no!"

Jericho heard nothing but saw only red as he and Batista kept the big Red Machine pinned to the ground, never once pulling back on any punch. He staggered to his feat, his rage pounding in his head as he kicked the downed man, hoping that he could kick just hard enough to fracture the already bruised ribs.

"That's enough," Batista growled, grabbing Jericho's arm and tugging him away from the fallen man. When Jericho struggled, Dave only held his grip tighter, spinning the smaller man to face him. "I said ENOUGH!"

Jericho closed his eyes, calming the nerves that had so recently tattered within his control and after a few deep breaths, his heart soothed. Shrugging away from Batista, Jericho turned his back and stormed down the corridor, not even noticing the small woman standing off to the side.

Trish watched after him, a fervent worry reflected in her eyes. She startled when she felt a large hand on her shoulder but soon sighed a relief when she noted it was Dave. "I've never seen him like that before."

"Frightening, isn't it?" Dave inquired. "You should go check on him."

She nodded, quickly dismissing herself. Swiftly weaving down the corridor, she saw him, his back to her as he stormed through the arena. "Chris."

He didn't stop at her voice though he did slow down, his head bowed.

"Chris, wait," she pleaded, finally catching up with him and she reached out to touch his shoulder. "Chris."

He yanked his arm away from her, turning to glare down into her eyes. The hurt and betrayal at his actions were obvious in her eyes and he instantly felt a wave of guilt flood his every sense. He sighed, defeated, his head bowed.

Trish reluctantly backed away from him, averting her eyes. Not this again. He was going to be angry with her. Would he strike her again?

"I'm sorry," he breathed, shaking his head, his tone scolding. "I ..."

"Your knuckles," Trish said softly, reaching out to grab his hand and pull it closer to her. She delicately traced the bruised, battered, and bleeding knuckles. Nervous, upset, she looked up at him.

His eyes were closed, his breathing slow as he savored the feel of her touch.

She ran her hand up his arm and to his shoulder, resting on the pulse point of his neck.

Chris opened his eyes, meeting her deep gaze, his heart borne for her to see. No words were necessary as he stepped closer, encasing her in his arms and hugging her into his chest.

Trish sighed at the sensation, her heart fluttering as his arms tightened. She buried her face in his neck, inhaling the familiar yet intoxicating musk that she always recognized as distinctly him. Comfort at last. "You didn't need to do that."

"I know."

"Why?"

"I told you," he mumbled into her hair, inhaling the wondrous aroma. "No man ever hurts you while I'm here. And if I can't protect you out there in the ring, I can ensure they will never go after you again."

She sighed, tightening her hold on him, her arms wrapping around his neck in the most intimate of embraces. "Keep me safe tonight?"

"Always." He murmured, pulling back only far enough to place his lips over hers.

(Wasn't really motivated to write last week, but this week I got this chappie for you. Hope you enjoy it)


	20. February 7, 2005

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

February 7, 2005

Chris Jericho staggered through the backstage arena, his one hand resting on the wall for balance. His head throbbed with the slice over his eye, the blood trickling hotly down his face and dripping slowly from the tip of his nose.

Wavering slightly, he forced his vision to clear then stepped into his locker room.

"Come here," a soothing voice calmed.

He sighed, relaxing at the familiar tone. He closed his eyes, draping an arm over her slender shoulders as she led him into the room.

Trish carefully pushed him onto the couch, making sure he was comfortable.

Moaning slightly, he leaned back, slouching into the comfortable cushions. "It seems we just can't be happy lately. All this ... shit ... just keeps happening."

"Shhh," she hushed him.

He didn't know what she was doing but he heard her scuffling around the room. He kept his eyes closed, his head spinning and swirling. He tensed momentarily when he felt her crawl into his lap, her knees to either side of his thighs but then he moaned again in comfort when she placed a cool wet cloth to his head.

Trish carefully wiped the blood from his brow, cheeks and nose, cleaning off the dripping fluid before pressing the cloth to the cut, attempting to stop the bleeding. "You've been so weary lately. I've been worried. And you work too hard, push yourself too hard. Like tonight, that match. It was brutal, Chris, you should have stopped earlier."

"I couldn't give up," he mumbled softly, sinking into her touch and the comfort her presence graced upon him. "I don't give up. The fact that I'm with you is a testament of that."

"Chris," she breathed, slowly shaking her head.

"I shouldn't have tapped." He chided himself. "I had so much left to give. If only I tried harder. It was a great competitive battle and I respect Benoit but ..."

"Stop this talk," she ordered him though her voice remained a gentle caress. "If you tapped, it was because of the pain. And your head had been bleeding for a good long time. And do you know how pissed I would have been if you were semi-conscious coming back here. You'd have another thing coming, Mister."

He opened a single eye, catching the joking glistening in her eyes, the sweet smile on her face. He laughed. "And what would you do. I'm faster than you and stronger than you and bigger than you. You could never do anything to me."

"Is that so?" she questioned him, cocking her brow. "You seem to forget, My Dear, exactly who I am." She lifted the cloth, noting that the bleeding had stopped and the cut was beginning to scab.

"And I still state that you could do nothing to me."

"Hmmm," Trish swirled a single finger along his cheek and the scruff of his jaw before traveling lower and across his chest. Her smile sweetened at his short intake of breath and she continued lower around his abdomen and tickling his navel for a moment. He shifted uncomfortably beneath her but she continued still, this time using all her fingers to tease the waistband of his tights.

"This is cheating, woman," he growled between clenched teeth.

Her eyes remained innocent and playful. "I thought you said I could do nothing to subdue you. You are mine, Chris. And look at the control I have over you."

"But this is seduction," he argued, his breath quickening as her caress lightened. "Seduction is cheating. I could just as easily seduce you."

"Hmm, really," she cooed, settling herself a little higher on his lap, her hands slowly massaging the tense muscles of his chest and abs. "I'm not so sure. How's your head feeling?"

"To be honest, I hadn't noticed."

Her hands traveled back up his body before raking through his hair, burying in the long golden locks. Her thumbs pressed into his temples, her fingers working just as diligently as she gently massaged the dulling ache from his head.

He sighed, his body sagging and falling limp, his head ducking forward against her breast. His forehead pressed to her chest, he moaned his relief. "My God, I didn't know you could do this."

Trish smiled warmly, placing a soft kiss on the crown of his head. "You better hope you don't get any blood on my shirt."

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her closer, pillowing his head on her breast. "I love you."

"I love you too," she responded, kissing his hair once and then one more time. "Relax. Shhh," she rocked him slightly, adoring the thought that she could offer him such comfort. Slowly, the tension fled his body and she kissed his head again at the sound of his soft and gentle snoring.

* * *

Lita winced, clenching her teeth as she shifted her weight on the couch in her den. Her leg immobilized, the stiff cast was more of a burden than a help. She wanted independence. She was not one to be doted upon, to have everything done for her. And yet with this ridiculous injury, there was nothing she could do on her own.

She felt foolish, being so dependent on those around her and it flared her anger as those thoughts raced through her mind.

"Is there anything else you need?"

Lita glanced to the den doorway, her expression still stern and unwavering. "I'm fine."

Kane nodded, approaching her. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"As fine as I'm going to be." She partially snapped back. She shook her head, scolding herself for being so bitter. There was no reason for her to snap at him. "I'm sorry," she sighed, averting her eyes from the big man she had learned to call 'husband'.

"It's fine," he responded, kneeling down beside her and cocking his head to look in her eyes. "I understand you're frustrated. I hate being on the sidelines, feeling that I can't do anything and no one else understands exactly what it is I'm going through. But I've been there and now that you're there ... well I understand. I don't know if that comforts you, but ... I understand."

She smiled genuinely.

He smiled too, his grin was slightly crooked and his eyes slanted slightly. "Now are you sure there's nothing I can get you? Maybe a cup of tea?"

Lita felt a sudden wave of warmth flood her senses. He wasn't the most attractive man but he seemed to care. He'd protected her honor on many occasions; he defended her and still spoke to her and respected her despite the loss of their child. Kane had done more for her than any man she ever knew. "A cup of tea would be nice."

Kane smiled and stood, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her brow. "A cup of tea it is."

* * *

Trish nudged the man in her arms quite gently. "Chris," she hushed, easing his head back from her chest and holding him carefully in her hands. She smiled, slowly shaking her head. She couldn't believe he was still asleep. "Baby, wake up, before you get stiff."

"Mmm," he moaned, refusing to open his eyes and a small smile slipped onto his face as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer. His head pillowed on her breast again, he snuggled into her. "I don't wanna wake up. Stiff or no."

Chuckling, she pushed his head back again, this time making sure he ended up back against the couch, his head resting on the soft cushions. His head rocking to the side as he gazed at her with the most tender affection. He simply could not mask the emotion so soon after sleep.

He licked his lips, his smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and he caressed a steady hand along her sides and waist.

She rolled her eyes, playfully swatting his hands away. He was always so frisky whenever he woke up and though she loved how gentle and tender his desires were in this mood, she was not about to indulge in his sweetness.

"Deny me, woman?" he teased then stuck his lower lip out in a pout, his eyes wide and filled with delicious yearning. "What if I give you this look?"

"That look rarely works on me," she quipped back. "And yes, even when you really turn it on." She paused, looking away from him. "Stop that. You look so pitiful." She pressed her lips tightly together. "It's not working."

"I think it is," he drawled, his hands squeezing her slender waist. "Just one little kiss? Please? Don't make me beg."

"You're already begging, Babe." She laughed, wiggling from his grasp and trying to pull away.

But he wouldn't release her. His smile spread across his face, his eyes sparkling with the warmest mischief. "I'll keep begging. And if you think I'm letting you go ..."

She stilled, cocking her head as her eyes narrowed. "What's wrong?"

His face dropped. "Wha ... huh?"

"I know you," She said. "I know you, Chris. And you ... there's something wrong. I can feel it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he quickly responded, turning his eyes away from her and pushing her from his lap. Standing, he walked away from her, keeping his back to her gaze.

"If nothing was wrong, you wouldn't have closed up and run away like you just did."

He did not respond.

"Chris."

He squared his shoulders, unwilling to turn to face her.

"Chris, God damn it!" she spat, stamping to his back as she tapped him harshly on the back. "Look at me."

He sniffed hard, controlling every feature and every breath. "There's nothing to see."

Stiffening, she removed her hand from him. His tone was laced with a chill, a death she had never wished to hear. So cold, so withdrawn. It was not his voice, not the sound she was used to hearing from his throat. It scared her. Unable to respond in any way, she clenched her teeth, pressing her lips tightly together as she stormed out of the locker room.

Chris sighed when the door slammed behind her, his shoulders sagging and his body drawn. Shaking his head, he approached the full size mirror at the opposite end of the locker room. He was surprised she didn't notice the dark circles under his eyes or the weariness in his figure.

Licking his lips, he tried to stare into his own eyes, reading any emotion that lay within. "I thought I hid it well. God, I had never rested like I did just now." He sighed again. He yearned to go to her again, to cuddle into her arms and let sleep take him for days. But she would not let that happen, not now. Not when she knew something was wrong.

How could he tell her about these dreams? He didn't want to frighten her. No, he would not tell her. Maybe it would be best to get his own hotel room for the night.

(Short one, but don't worry, next weeks will be fun)


	21. February 14, 2005

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

* * *

February 14, 2005

Trish Stratus gritted her teeth, her eyes a blazing fire as she stalked backstage through the arena. Glistening tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes, her lips pressed tightly together to still their trembling. A deep red hue flushed her usually reserved face as she turned one corner than another in her attempt to simply get away.

It was at these moments that she regretted what had become over the last few months. How she yearned for a confidant, a friend with whom she could entrust her feelings, her doubts and fears. But that companionship had long since dissipated. At one time, she would have run to Lita for solace but no longer. Even Jeff or Matt or Edge or Christian but those times have passed. In more recent times she could go to Randy or Dave but even that thought was a wish without possibilities.

She was alone.

Closing her eyes a moment, she willed her heart to cease racing. The only person she really had any more was Chris and where had he been the last week. No words, no calls, he didn't even return to their room last week after RAW. She had been concerned about him, more than worried because he had not been sleeping. Lying by his side, she knew that he slept restlessly, tossing with the cool sweat chilling his brow and body.

But there was nothing she could do if he would not confide within her. When she pushed him on the matter, he sealed his heart. She could not help that which she did not know.

Sighing, she pushed through the door to her locker room, not even bothering to glance around at her surroundings. She cared not for anything or anyone and at the moment she desired only to return to her room and sleep. Perhaps in sleep she would at last find peace.

"Don't let her words bother you."

Trish jumped, her eyes widened as her heart raced. She looked hastily around the room, finally spotting from who the words came from. She barely acknowledged his presence and instead returned her attention to her duffel bag, sorting through the belongings in an attempt to appear preoccupied. "Forgive me, I did not notice you were here."

Chris sighed, closing his eyes as he slumped back in tattered green couch that sat in the corner. Her coldness stung, though he knew it was deserved. "How have you been?"

"Do you care now or is this all just formality? Because you can spare me."

"Her words were undeserved and out of line, nonetheless."

A bitter chuckle choked past her lips as she shook her head. She still refused to face him. "I suppose you are trying to comfort me. Your words are just that, Chris. Words. And they do nothing to calm my heart. Her words were true and so they stung all the more. Nothing you say can change that or even change the fact that they are true. Don't try."

"Trish ..."

"Don't." she ordered him, finally gathering the nerve to meet his eyes. "Christy Hemme came out that tonight and I know I deserved it. But do you know what it does to me to be pushed to the sidelines. All of a sudden, nobody cares about the real Divas anymore. All they care about is the cheap flusie who's gonna strut her stuff because that's all she can do. Taking your clothes off for money ... for Playboy ... that still makes you a slut. And I know I'm no better." She took one step closer to him, her tears on the verge of bursting. "Candace? On the Highlight Reel? And what were you talking about? What did she do, Chris?"

Trish shook her head, averting her eyes from him. "Do you remember the first time I kissed you? In your locker room and I was so afraid and I just kissed you on your cheek, near the corner of your mouth. She kissed you there tonight! You encouraged her. You flirted with her."

Chris stood, his brow furrowed with concern and when he spoke his voice was tender and soft. "Is that why you did what you did tonight? Is that why you went out there?"

She released a heavy breath, her emotions and thoughts racing through her mind and scrolling passed her eyes. "Yes ... no, yes. I ... I don't know."

"Trish, why are you acting like this?"

"Like _this!_" she snapped at him. "And what exactly is this supposed to be. How do you expect me to feel, Chris? You know, sleeping next to someone nightly, you tend to get the feel of how that person sleeps and when they don't and all that stuff. I know when you're awake and I know that you haven't been sleeping well and why the hell you won't tell me is beyond me. Did it ever occur to you that I love you and that maybe I'd give a damn. That I care about those things and that no matter what it is that bothers you that you could tell me. You can tell me. Don't shut me out. And still you do. I'm supposed to bear my soul and be completely open to you and yet you can be a closed door."

Chris bowed his head, his eyes on the floor at her scolding. She was right and yet there was nothing he could do. No matter how hard he tried, he simply could not bring himself to expose his soul to her. The nightmares had frightened him so and he refused to place any of his burdens on her.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Chris." She spat bitterly.

Shaking with emotion, he rushed to her, his arms wrapping swiftly around her as he pulled her into his chest. He felt her instantly tense, refusing to return his embrace but he did not care. He tightened his arms, burying his face into her hair, inhaling the wondrous scent of flowers.

Her shoulders tensed, her arms stiff at her sides. She would not embrace him. She would not return this affection. Squeezing her eyes closed, she willed herself not to respond to him. How could she?

"I didn't forget," he whispered. "I want you to know that. There're flowers in your hotel room, waiting for you." He eased her back, cupping her face in his warm hands and he brushed his thumbs along her lips and chin. His eyes pierced hers, his breathing slow and hot on her face. "I love you."

Trish's lip trembled, the tears slipping from her eyes. "You could have fooled me." Her voice shook with emotion though she did not allow her composure to be fully lost. "I would never have known since you don't trust me."

"I don't want to burden you."

"I want to be burdened, Chris." She responded with soft conviction. "I love you. Is that not enough reason for you to confide in me. I may have my own burdens but I would not have you suffer alone. Tell me. Let me help you."

"I wasn't trying to hurt you tonight," he admitted intensely. "With Candace out there tonight. And you know I don't always choose my guests for my show, they're assigned to me. She was throwing herself at me, I know that. But I didn't respond to her. I didn't do anything. I walked away ... I left it at that. I'm not ... interested."

"I know that. Tonight ... I overreacted and I know that it was nothing. But that's not what I meant." Swallowing hard, she willed their eyes to lock and she reached up with a quivering hand to touch his tear streaked cheeks. "What do you dream of?"

His eyes widened.

"I know you dream." She breathed. "I see the sweat on your face and your body. I feel how you toss and mumble. You whimper for me, Chris. And then I ... I just pull you close and embrace you." She sniffled. "I press a kiss to your temple and rake my fingers through your hair. And as you lay with your head pillowed on my shoulder, you finally rest." She licked her dried lips. "And when you awaken and I look in your eyes and see that moment of haunting shadows ... it kills me. And then I ask ... and you dismiss me. How ..." she shook her head, her throat clenching with her tears. "How do you think that makes me feel?"

His breath quickened, his heart racing and he ducked his head. "I ... I never knew."

She cupped his cheeks, bringing him to her to press her forehead to his.

"I'm sorry," he sighed as his eyes fell closed and he reached up to cup her head in his hands. "I'm so sorry I didn't return to you last week. I just felt out of place. Like you didn't want me there."

"I always want you there," she pledged, closing her own eyes against the emotion. "Chris, talk to me."

"I don't know if I can."

She breathed a heavy sigh, her heart sinking at his words. "Why?"

"I don't know how to say it."

She tightened her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and letting him tuck his head in the crook of her neck. "I have to know. It kills me that I see you so troubled and I can do nothing to help you."

"There are a dozen red roses in your hotel room," he admitted softly. "I know it's not the ideal Valentine's Day anything. I had no plans for dinner and I didn't buy you anything fancy or expensive. I ... I refuse to be superficial like that and do it just because it's expected. I ..."

"I don't care about that stuff." She told him, rocking slightly against him. "I just want my Chris back. Tell me what I have to do. If you won't tell me your thoughts and your fears, how can I know you. Baby, please. Help me."

"Just hold me tonight," he said, softly. "Hold me so that I know you're here."

Trish nodded, tightening her arms and pressing close to him. "Feel me, Chris. I'm here for you and I'm real."

"I love you," he sighed.

"Will you tell me ... soon?"

He didn't answer her at first, his mind racing, his heart fluttering. Gathering his will, his courage, he pressed a kiss to her ear. "Yes."

(Short chapter, but I've been really busy lately. I hope you like this update.)


	22. February 21, 2005

Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

February 21, 2005

* * *

Randy Orton narrowed his eyes, focusing intently on the woman across the catering room. Her eyes ... he couldn't tear away from her eyes.

Stacy chattered on next to him, speaking of the weekend and the coming events and what to do when and where. Randy paid little attention as his thoughts swirled with possibilities and the more prominent one was quite disturbing.

The catering hall was fairly empty. Randy and Stacy sat at one of the tables and Trish Stratus at the other. His eyes glared as another man walked into the room and sat opposite Trish.

Chris Jericho reached across the table, his fingers gently touching Trish's cheek and then his thumb brushing over her swollen blackened eye.

Trish shuddered, turning away from him at the touch and he lowered his hands, clasping them on the table as he spoke to her. She shied away from him, her head bowed and eyes closed.

Randy clenched his teeth. "Bastard," he muttered.

"What?" Stacy asked him, her eyes naïve as she glanced at him after being interrupted.

A snarl pulled at his lips and he slowly shook his head, her words not even registering. "He hit her again. I'll kill him."

"Who?"

But Randy didn't listen. His teeth clenched, he stood from his seat and stalked the distance across the catering hall.

* * *

Chris Jericho took a seat in front of his girlfriend. "How are you?" he asked softly, his eyes gentle as he reached out to brush his fingers over her cheek.

"I'm alright."

"Scared me half to death when you called me this weekend." He said. "When you told me you were helping your Mom with the stuff in her attic ..."

Trish shook her head. "Do you know how embarrassing it is to have this black eye, knowing how I really got it."

Chris reached up a little further, brushing his thumb over her bruised skin. "It looks horrible ..."

"Thanks."

"No, but ... when I first saw it, I nearly had a heart attack."

She shrugged away from him, her head ducked. "It's still tender. And don't look at me. It makes me so ugly."

He chuckled softly. "Sweetheart, you're never ugly to me."

A soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she looked into his eyes for the first time, his crystalline eyes shimmering with gladness and affection. "I ..."

She jumped when a pair of hands slammed onto the table and her head spun to the side.

Randy glared, his expression one of anger and fury as he snarled at Chris. "Just couldn't help yourself could ya. It's never just one time. It never is, you fucking dirtbag."

Jericho's eyes flamed, his body suddenly tense. "What exactly are you implying?"

"You know what I mean, you Son of a Bitch!" Randy roared and recoiled.

Jericho fell back out of his chair at the impact, his cheek throbbing with the punch at too shocked to react, he held a hand to his cheek, and look up at his attack with unsure and surprised eyes.

"What?" Randy taunted. "Man enough to hit a woman but not someone your own size?"

"No, Randy." Trish called out, rushing to Randy and placing her hands on his chest. "Don't."

"Hey," Stacy called. "Get your hands off him!" She quickly approached the quarrel and shoved Trish away from her boyfriend. "He's mine."

Randy ignored all but his own mind and he turned to his one time girlfriend. "Maybe you don't remember, Trish, but I certainly do. Remember a long time ago ... less than a year. Remember when you came to me. To my bed. To a real man."

"What?" Stacy gasped.

Randy paid no heed. "Remember when he struck you and you left. And now what? You're not strong enough to leave on your own. You can't ..."

"He didn't hit me, Randy," Trish spat, her eyes venomous and she stalked up to her former boyfriend. "He didn't do this to me. And who the hell are you to even accuse him of it?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Randy responded in a tone of devilish mockery. "Forgive me for being concerned. Especially considering the way he's treated you before. How could I help but assume he slapped that black and blue onto your face."

Jericho, having heard enough, pushed to his feet in a flurry of rage and lashed out, his fist impacting the other man's jaw. "Son of a Bitch."

Randy stumbled slightly but his focus quickly returned as his heated gaze met that of his attacker. "Why you ..."

"No," Trish demanded, placing herself between the two men. Her back to Chris, she placed herself as close to her boyfriend as she could and her eyes glared dangerous daggers. "Don't come near him. And Chris, just stop it."

Chris easily obeyed her, his stance defensive and his eyes never leaving the other man. "I should rip him apart for what he's insinuating."

Trish again shook her head, this time turning towards Chris. "Baby," she whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek, knowing it would draw his eyes to her. She was right. "Baby, I want to get out of here."

Chris sighed, his thoughts solely of the woman before him. He finally felt the swelling of his cheek, the thick pulsating pain that throbbed with blinding annoyance and he closed his eyes, reaching up to place his hand over hers, holding her touch to his injured cheek.

She smiled sweetly, adoring how easily she could sooth him with nothing more than a whispered word and a calming caress. "I'm tired. My head hurts. I just want to leave."

"Alright," he sighed with a slow nod and he turned his head slightly to brush his lips over her palm. "Let's get out of here."

Randy clenched his teeth as he was being outright ignored. Hadn't anyone noticed that he still cared, even if just as a friend? His concerns were truly warranted and there was no reason to be utterly dismissed.

"I didn't know."

He turned his head to the voice, finally noticing a sad-eyed Stacy Keibler. "Didn't know what, Sweetheart."

Stacy sniffed as they were left alone and she slowly shook her head. "I didn't know you were with her. I ... I didn't know you still loved her."

He sighed, his own head shaking as he pressed a hand into his eyes.

"You do, don't you." She said, taking a step back from him. "Do you care about me?"

"Of course I do," he answered as his eyes met hers. "It's not like you think it is. I mean, yeah, I was with her but I ... it's over between us."

When he reached for her, Stacy took another step back, making sure there was suitable distance between them. "Do you wish it wasn't?"

He shrugged, casually. "Not really. I mean, I'll be honest with you. I loved her, yeah. But not like that anymore. It's been many months and I got over her. As much as you'd expect me to in that amount of time. It doesn't mean that I don't care about you."

"Do you love me?"

He silenced, her question catching him off guard.

Stacy sniffed, her eyes looking to another part of the room. "My heart moved too fast."

But her words were so soft, he couldn't hear them. "What?"

"Nothing," she answered with swift dismissal. "Nothing, it's nothing."

Randy did not accept her answer and in response, he closed the distance between them, reaching out to cup her face in his hands. "I don't know what words you want from me and I was never good at them. But listen to me when I tell you that when I'm with you, I'm not thinking of anyone else."

She nodded, weakly.

"I'll be honest." He continued. "It'll take some more time for my heart to be where you want it. Give me time, Stacy." He leaned down to press his forehead to hers and when she sighed at his touch, he slipped his arms around her waist. "I want to love you."

Stacy smiled at his words, knowing that he was sincere. And though she wished for more from him, she could not push it. "And I will wait for you." She responded and his lips descended upon hers. Why, again, was she angered and upset with him? She could not remember.

* * *

Chris sighed as he closed the door to their hotel room, cautiously sliding the lock to keep any unwanteds away.

"Chris?"

"Mmm," he acknowledged, turning his tired eyes upon the woman in the room. He smiled as she already lounged on the bed, her shoes discarded to the floor and her one arm tucked under her head for elevation. "Do you have any idea how delicious you look right now?"

Trish smiled in return, a slight flush accentuating her cheeks at his words. "Come. Lay with me."

His eyes flickered darkly at her suggestion, despite the innocent connotations behind her honey-brown eyes. With another content sigh, he sprawled onto the bed, facing her. Reaching out a single hand, he tucked some stray fibers of hair behind her ears.

Her response was to duck her head, cuddling against him as she draped a single arm over his waist. As his breathing slowed, she knew he calmed. "Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"I've been doing a lot of thinking and after what happened today, I think I figured it out."

"What are you talking about?" he asked softly, his lips brushing along the side of her head. He inhaled, the rich scent of vanilla invading his senses. "Mmm, you smell good."

She placed her palms on his chest, pushing back to look up into his eyes. "You dream about me, don't you? About what happened between us and about ..."

His expression dropped, his eyes clouding as terror clouded him.

"Chris," she cupped his face in her hands, forcing their eyes to meet and she shook his head gently to grab his full attention. "Chris, I can't help you if you won't let me."

His eyes hardened. "And I can't heal if my mistakes are always thrown in my face." The moment he said the words, he felt guilty and he groaned at himself, pushing away from her. With a drawn sigh, he sat on the bed, his knees pulled up to his chest and his head turned away from her.

Hurt by his sudden withdrawal, Trish sat up as well, curling into herself and mimicking his pose. "I'm sorry, if that's what I've been doing. I ... I haven't ..."

"Not you," he clarified, his voice harsher than he would have liked. Again he scolded himself with a soft swear and he bowed, pressing his forehead to his knees. After gathering himself, he turned his head slightly, looking at her through half focused eyes. "Did you ever do something that you totally and completely regret?"

Trish considered his question for a moment, her entire past whirling through her mind. "Yes."

"And were you ever haunted by it?"

"All the time," she answered without hesitation. "But we have to live with our pasts. I think ... I think that's why we appreciate the present more."

Chris fell silent, his eyes showing the tirade of emotions swirling within his thoughts. "And perhaps that is why I love you more now than before."

"Perhaps," she responded with a nod and then a sly smile spread across her lips. "Or perhaps you are just a lovesick fool."

He chuckled at her statement and a glittering light flickered in his eyes. "Perhaps indeed."

Trish reached over, brushing her fingers through his hair. "Randy's words bothered you tonight, didn't they?"

Chris nodded. "Reminded me of my mistakes, my faults. The dreams I have. I do not like these dreams and sometimes I just wish they'd go away."

She carefully clenched her fist, taking a strong hold of his soft golden hair. "Then perhaps we should make new dreams for you."

He sighed as she pulled at him, both laying back onto the bed before their lips met in a sweetly passionate kiss.

(YAY for reviews)


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